


Music Box

by ADyingFlower



Series: Winter Lullaby [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detroit: Become Human Fusion, Androids, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Lance (Voltron), Dark Shiro (Voltron), Disturbing Fluff, Families of Choice, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Murder Family, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Memory Alteration, Minor Character Death, Mostly fluff with the occasional dead body, Obsession, On the Run, Parent-Child Relationship, Psychopaths In Love, Robot Feels, Serial Killers, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Sometimes family is two killer robots and the human child they kinda kidnapped, Toddlers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unconventional Families, child keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 03:51:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 114,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20351929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADyingFlower/pseuds/ADyingFlower
Summary: Shiro is a domestic android, serving the wealthy business man Mr. Sendak by taking care of the penthouse and Mr. Sendak's ward, three year old Keith. But when Shiro learns about his soon replacement, everything comes crashing down on their isolated life, and the two of them are forced to flee into Detroit's bitterly cold streets, teaming up with a strange, but kind android named Lance to escape to Canada.A story about parenthood, families, and growth, with a dash of romance. And murder, can't forget that either.





	1. Replacement

**Author's Note:**

> I drew heavy inspirations for Shiro and Keith's characters from a mix of Kara's/Daniel's/Markus' situations, but Lance is a bit of a surprise (for now, anyhow)
> 
> If you're unfamiliar with Detroit Become Human, LED is a small removable circle on the side of an android's that changes colors to demonstrate their moods using a red/yellow/blue system.
    
    
    **MODEL: TA400**  
    
    **SERIAL: #231 896 474**
    
    
    **BIOS 7.4 REVISION 0483**
    
    
    
    **REBOOT**...  
    
      
    
    
    
    
    **STASIS ALARM**  
    
      
    
    **LOADING OS...**  
    
      
    
    **SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...**  
    
    **CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS...      OK**  
    
    **
    INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS...**     **OK**  
    
    **INITIALIZING AI ENGINE...    **  **OK**
    
    
    
    **MEMORY STATUS  **
    
    
    
    **ALL SYSTEMS...          **  **     OK**
    
    
    **READY** 

Date: OCT 9TH, 2038  
Time: AM 6:03:17

Shiro opens his eyes, blinking several times to let his sensors readjust. Black irises flick from each side of the large living room of Mr. Sendak’s penthouse, drenched in sharp whites and cement floors. Slowly, his arms relax from their standby position, settling by his sides, and his sensors automatically stretch out - 

He smiles. “Keith, you know sneaking up on me never works.” 

Keith jolts, flopping back down onto the ground with his favorite blanket. He sighs miserably, kicking his small legs up in the air. “Shi’ro, no fair!”

The android crouches down, scooping up the toddler and bouncing him on his hip. “Yes, yes I know.” He says, tapping Keith lightly on the nose as he starts his morning routine, if a bit earlier than usual. 

**Urgent tasks **

  * Feed Keith breakfast
  * Wash dishes
  * Help Keith get dressed

**Optional tasks**

  * Vacuum 
  * Clean bathrooms

His LED whirls for a brief moment, but it only takes a fraction of a second for his surroundings to be scanned and for him to plan the morning. 

As per usual, Keith fusses when he tries to feed him, even when he holds out the spoon against the toddler’s mouth. Shiro leans back, reconsidering his approach. 

“Keith, you need to eat.” He scolds the boy, but Keith only sullenly crosses his arms and turns his nose up at the mashed up pancakes. “If you don’t eat, then we’ll just have to sit here and wait until you do. And someone’s favorite cartoon plays in an hour…”

Sure enough, Keith pouts, but he sticks the spoonful in his mouth. 

“Good job,” Shiro praises, but Keith ignores him in favor of shoveling the food down as fast as he can, with a pinched expression on his face as if he would rather be anywhere else than here. When his plate is empty, Shiro lets him go, not surprised when Keith immediately bolts to the bathroom. 

Quietly, he gathers up all the dishes, hand washing them all in the large sink Mr. Sendak’s kitchen is provided with. Briefly, he accesses his memory bank to see if Mr. Sendak will be home tonight, but no, his owner is still at the business trip in New York and will likely remain there for the rest of the week as planned. 

Ę̸̙͂r̵̟̽͂́r̷͈̲̰̈́o̸̪̍r̸͇͉̣̿͗͠.̶̥͇̖͠

The LED spins. Blue, then yellow, then back to blue. 

Shiro runs diagnosis tests through his interface, but nothing comes up as blatantly wrong. He’ll have to do more through tests tonight when Keith goes to bed, but as he hangs the last dish to dry just as the sound of small footsteps echoes in the near silent apartment. 

Despite himself, he smiles to himself, turning around to see what Keith needs. But Keith’s just standing there, his treasured stuffed rabbit held close to his chest. 

“Everything all right?” He asks gently, modulating his voice in order to match the recommended ‘caring’ tone. Keith wrinkles his nose, almost as if knows it’s pre-programmed, but he holds out a hand for Shiro anyhow. 

“Dressed.” He says, already tugging Shiro along. “Time to dressed, Shi’ro.” 

**Urgent tasks **

  * Feed Keith breakfast (complete)
  * Wash dishes (complete)
  * Help Keith get dressed (in progress)

**Optional tasks**

  * Vacuum 
  * Clean bathrooms

Shiro helps him choose a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with the characters from some kind of superhero show. Keith hums in satisfaction when they’re done, dragging along his blanket and his stuffed rabbit to the couch and curling up in front of the TV. 

To be honest, Keith seems a bit more despondent than normal. He wonders if it has anything to do with Keith’s guardian extended absence, but Mr. Sendak has spent much longer periods of time away from the penthouse than this. 

For several moments, Shiro recalls him and Keith’s first meeting in near perfect memory. A few accidents have left his memory spotty, but that was one of the few he managed to keep a firm hold on. 

When he had bowed towards Mr. Sendak and the small boy hiding behind Mr. Sendak’s knee, and his eyes made contact with a pair of innocent blue eyes so blue they almost glowed violet in the light, TA400 knew they were meant to be together. 

Especially when Mr. Sendak had pushed the small boy forward and grumbled something about him naming TA400, and the boy had looked up at him with starry eyes and chubby hands that silently begged to be picked up. When the boy was in his arms, he had reached out and tugged on TA400 white strand, murmuring, “Shi’ro” under his breath. 

So there’s no reason for Keith to be so out of sorts. 

He spends several long moments just analyzing potential conversations with Keith, calculating the outcomes for each of them whether Keith will talk to him or only clam up further. When the third calculation comes back with the same less than thirty percent success rate, he deletes the optional task and moves on with routine. 

**Urgent tasks **

  * Help Keith get dressed (complete)
  * Entertain Keith 
  * Take trash out

**Optional tasks**

  * Vacuum 
  * Clean bathrooms

Shiro turns on the small roomba, and distracted, Keith hops up from the couch and abandons his stuffed rabbit and blanket to jump around the roomba and stalk it like a cat. A vague sensation of amusement washes over him, before he turns around to start cleaning Keith’s bathroom. There’s not much, a little bit of toothpaste there, knocked over shampoo bottle from bath time last night. 

Though he does squint a little bit at something on the ground near the toilet. 

It’s a piece of pancake. Unconsciously, he runs a scan on it. 

No saliva enzymes. Keith didn’t puke it up then - did he hide it in his pocket and Shiro didn’t notice somehow? He’ll have to ask later -

And the house powers down.

Shiro’s head jolts up, his sensors immediately going hardwire. What was that, an unexpected blizzard? Did Mr. Sendak forget to pay the power bill again? Was it just the power or -

“Shi’ro!” Keith screams.

The heat. 

Hurriedly, he jogs out of the bathroom, watching with wide eyes as Keith scrambled toward him, dragging his blanket behind him. “It stopp!”

Shiro kneels down, scooping the little boy up in his arms and bundling him in the blanket. “The heat? Yes it did, I’m sorry Keith. We’re going to have to stay close together today.”

For a moment, Shiro almost wished he was human, so that he could provide Keith the warm touch of another human being. But those kind of thoughts are useless, so instead he powers on his biocomponents to his highest capacity and lets the warmth of its processors soak through the blanket. 

Keith hums happily, snuggling up next to Shiro and giggling a little bit when Shiro protectively tucks his hands and feet back underneath a blanket. “Love you, Shi’ro.” He sings. 

Shiro feels warmth unrelated to his systems heat up his face. He tucks his face against Keith’s hair, nuzzling those soft strands gently. “I love you too, Keith.” 

:::

Lunch time comes and goes, Keith makes faces at the food before hurrying to the bathroom, and eventually he slumbers quietly on the couch, wrapped firmly in several blankets.

It’s dangerous to have his systems running so hot for too long, so he reluctantly disengages some of his biocomponents and watches his core temperature slowly but steadily tick down out of the corner of his eye.

Tucking the quilt over Keith, he narrows his eyes at Keith cold cheeks. The toddler shivers despite the three blankets on top of him, the cold Detroit autumn’s air penetrating through the large windows. Shiro always knew those things were built thinly. 

At this rate, he would have to take Keith out to the heated lobby downstairs, but both of them were forbidden from leaving the penthouse. There was a trash chute built in the hallway wall, Mr. Sendak had one of his men bring up groceries weekly, and the elevator opened straight into the penthouse. 

And Keith was only going to grow colder when night fell. 

Decision made, Shiro turns on his heel towards the one place left in the penthouse that would have blankets: Mr. Sendak’s bedroom. 

Usually, he’s not allowed inside. Shiro purses his mouth at the red tape covering the door, with bright red **DO NOT ENTER **stamped all over it. The warnings are only visible to him - his coding ensuring that he knows where and what he can do.

_ But_, he is allowed inside to clean the master bathroom. And he was planning on doing it today anyhow. 

The red tape clears, and Shiro quickly steps through before his programming can catch his loophole. Though he’s an older household assistant model, his coding is still very advanced, and it’s quick to catch on to small nuances in his thinking. 

Mr. Sendak’s bedroom is just as much as an organized mess as it usually is. Though it irks at his programming at all the messily discarded clothes, he pushes it aside in order to bundle up the large comforter. 

Something falls from the sheets. 

Blinking his eyes, Shiro drops the blankets by his feet. Carefully, he reaches out, gently picking up the tablet off the bed. It was strange - to leave a tablet somewhere so easily breakable. 

Without thinking of it, he turns it on. 

W̷̦͗̄̂h̴̛̰̐̒̋a̶̜̥̩̓̑̍͘t̶̘͊̏͠

̴̲̻̠̣͋̍͝N̸̨̢̼̤͆ọ̷̀͒̅̅,̵̮̟̔ ̸̠̹̺͐̐̚n̶͕̙̩̪̔o̸͙͗̇̔͝ ̴̜̈͂̅n̴̑ͅǫ̷̱̲̃̇̀͠ͅ ̶̙͈̌̔n̷͇̖̩̺̆ṍ̵̯̤͕̲͘͘ ̶̫͝n̸̛̪͉̽o̵̰͛ ̵̧̡̣̳̃̕ḧ̷͕́̈̇̓ͅe̸̟͍͑ ̵͖̦̜͍̍͝m̴͔͚̊̀ų̴͐͐̓ś̵͓̤̠͒̄͒ͅt̵͊̇̌ͅ ̷̡̋b̶̪͝e̵̪͆̂ ̵̬̝̞̫͠m̵̡̉i̵͙̻̒͒̍ͅș̸̈́t̶̨͖͕̩͛a̴̞̼̝͕̐̇k̴͚̾̐̊ȩ̵̼̩̉͝ͅn̷̩̜̈̈́,̶͎̙̚ ̷̰̪̙̞̽t̸̡̘͙̖̎͒̏̅h̴̞͂i̸̖͍̞̾͊s̸̨̱͂̓͌̑ ̷̲̭̄̆ć̴̲͌̀a̴͕̞̝̍̔̓͝n̶̨̠̲̏̆̑̀'̷̟͑̃͌̕t̷͔̥̯͙͗ ̵̨̳͙̒̋b̵̡̤͕̳̒͠e̷̝͛ ̷̰̒̇̍͘h̴̳̖̍̈ạ̴̣̐̆̐p̸̬̱̝̽̌p̶̟͔̅ͅe̷͖n̶̢̖̲̂̕i̴̱̒n̴̙͋́g̵̜̟̎ ̴͉͙̗͆͊̎-̵̠̞͈͕́ ̶͇̒͒̽͝

̸͍͛̑̚͝H̴̭̭̆e̴̫̿̿͘'̶̣̤̎̔̕s̶̢̎͌̀ ̸͍̮̿̈́͜͝g̶̙̜͍̽̉ỏ̴̗̩̹̉͝i̸̱̖̣̿ͅṉ̴̘̓g̴̤͕̐̕ ̴̭̭̺͋̄̆ͅẗ̸̡̧̮̲́̑͊ọ̴̲͙͔̓̇̚ ̴͉͖͙̿̿̈̅b̵̨̗̻̋̈́̚͜ȩ̵͔͐̕̕͜ͅ.̷̡͎͂.̸̧͚͓̄̋̀̑ͅ.̴̦̹̥̍ ̶̨̩͚̦͒̔͑

̶̤̠̙̓̈́̆R̷̢̘̯̈́͐ē̶̤̟͔̠̽̋͗p̵̤͋͆͋͝l̸̗͎̀̇͌ͅa̴̯̳̠͝č̷̨̟̬͒͋͝ę̶͚̋̅d̶̘̻̩̞͛?̴͚̾ ̵̢̭̗̈́̋̋͘

̶͈̔̓͒T̶̨̛̓́͝h̷͕̋̃̌ͅr̷̖̃o̵͈̎̇̋̕w̴̳͖̼͎̔͑n̶̘̲̜̐ ̴͖̠͌̓͝Ȁ̷̗͈͉͎͌̊̈́W̶̤̽̆̕A̵̋͐́ͅÝ̸̭̖͛͜͝ ̸͙͑̉͠-̸̦͒ ̷͓̮͈͊̿ͅ

̷̥̟͙̾B̸̤̫̬̓̅̓͝Ư̸̧͈̅͑̚T̵̩̤̣̈́̊̐̿ ̷͎͕̯̐H̶͉̫̟͊Ȅ̵̥ ̸͇̞͂͊L̶̺̪̠͝O̵̜̓̈́̍V̴̙͌͐͘E̶̤̩̎S̵̢̫͑ͅ ̸̨͇͛̚͝K̷̳̦̘̍̌͘Ȅ̷͔̑I̵̧͇͚̒̈́T̸̙̈́͂̎̕H̶̡̛̟͓͒͌͗

̴̨̟̘̜̈H̴̰̺̏͑Ȩ̷̞̯̋ ̷͓̲̉̕L̴̩͝Ò̴̝̙̰̭V̴͈̱̦͒́̿E̸̱̳̻̽̈́̊Ș̶̳̉̔̕͘ ̸̨͙̤̼͝H̶͇̿̓ͅI̷͕̍̾M̸̗͆̂ ̶͎͊͌ͅH̴̺͐̏̔̄Ē̵͈̤̳̎ ̶̞̐́L̶̩̗͛͒Ȍ̶͎̃̏V̷̨̜̺̰͂E̶̙͔͒͘S̸̯͓͎̉͐̾ ̶͔̠̋Ḧ̸̛̙̎̃Ȋ̸̪Ṁ̵̨̒̐̚ ̴̛͎̮̍̕͝H̵̨͙̭̥̓È̷̢̳͇͑͜͠ ̸̧͑̈́L̸̡̙͑O̴̫̠̥̳͊̄̈́V̴̟̘͔̬̔Ȩ̸̱̭͂͑͝S̵͉̰̭̬ ̵̗̝͔͋͂H̵͚̣͗Í̷͉̱̬̓̆̚M̶͖͕̱̔ ̸͖̆̔̀͝Ḧ̸̨̬̙́̑E̶͎̠͓̒͝ ̷̞͈̉L̶̰̽͆O̸̺̾̆̔͝V̴̧̫̱̈Ẽ̶͍͖̙Ś̸͎̺̪ ̶̧̣̖̆̆̚H̷̨̪͙͐̽I̶̭͔̜͚͋͂̉M̴̺̊̐̕ ̸͈̲̩͙́H̷̫͕͎̖̒͛Ȩ̷̯̯̫́̃͊ ̷̯̑̏L̷̹͖͚̄͗̏Ó̵͝ͅV̶̳̞̏͌͝Ẻ̴̢͒̊ͅͅͅS̷͓̥̫̽͗ ̴̪̻̾̅̚Ḩ̵͔͇̜̈I̴̻͐̓̾Ḿ̴͙͌͛͝ ̷̦͔͇̠̏̀̏H̵̡̩̺̉E̵̟̋̑̉̕ͅ ̷̧̳͙͈̑̉͝L̸̪̭̹̩̓͑̓̕O̶̩͈̜̲͠V̸̧͉̀͘Ę̷̱̖̘͋̇͆͝S̵̝̮̚͠ ̵̧̬̙̣̎͛̄̔H̶͉̄͘I̴̪͉̒M̴̮͇̽͛ ̷̩̩̻͒̎͂̚H̸̻͎̘́̍͘E̵͕͎̲̽̋ ̴̨͓̤̈́L̸͓̇͊͛͠O̶̻̯͉̭͂V̵̻̠̣̑̃͊ͅE̵̥̹̜̐͐͝S̵̱̑͒̽̕ ̵̢͔͛̃͌H̸̤̒̃Ḯ̷͔̦̃̅̄M̴̘̮͆͒ ̵̻͈̅̿M̵̜̂Ǫ̷̻̙̠̀͆R̸̲̩͊̽͝͠È̶̮̟͓͓͆͐̈́ ̸͎͕͛̆͠͠T̶̤̗̠͔͗͑H̵̞̓Ȁ̷̠̘̣͖N̸̨̹͕̞̾͝ ̸͇̍̇͜A̴̠͔̻̹͋̓̊̔N̶͔̥̠̋̍̓Y̴̛̹̰̓̆T̵̛͓̳͙̔H̷͇̹͎Ḯ̷͈̊͝N̴͔̏͝G̶̪̲͈̓̒ ̷̬͚̠̥͑̈́

_ Your order for an AP700 android has been registered. _

Shiro sinks to the floor, gripping onto his synthetic strands hard enough to tear them from his scalp. It does not hurt, because androids cannot feel pain, but the whirring inside him was screaming out in agony. 

He might be screaming, too. 

_ Cyberlife thanks you for your purchase. _

Ī̴͍̈́ ̶̢͔̎̇͝D̷̘̄̒Ȏ̵͎N̴͍̫͎̈́̈́̿͘'̷̨͖̭̱͑̿͆T̴̨͇͎̥̍͋͒͝ ̷͓̰͇̓Ŵ̴͎͒̌Ả̸̝͂N̵̗͈̟̽̓̽͆T̷̙͈̱͙̐̓ ̶̣͈͌͠T̵̢̘̀̓̚O̸͕̙͌̋̈͝ ̵͇͚̯̆̽D̶̪̬̍͠ͅI̸̮̿E̶̙̊̌̚

He’ll never, he’ll never see Keith again. And this new, this new fucking android! What does it know about Keith? What does it know about this sweet loving boy who giggles so tenderly and looked up at him unfathomable violet eyes as he called him_ Shi’ro _for the first time. 

The blanket discarded, he climbs to his feet, staggering and stumbling every step of the way as he forces his way back towards the living room. Countless error signals cross his visual, but he dismisses all them until he grows sick of everything and orders his system not to bother him unless it’s life threatening. 

Finally, he looms over the small boy that has been his world for years. The same boy who Shiro taught the alphabet to through song, who jumps over the cracks in the tile, who gives Shiro soap beards during bathtime and cries out silently for him after nightmares. The same boy who sleeps now curled up into a tight ball in the middle of the couch, his thumb partway into his mouth. His eyes move restlessly underneath his eyelids. 

Keith. 

Quietly, he clenches his hands around Keith’s unused pillow, and hovers it over Keith’s face. 

ḯ̶̧̨̪̑f̴̯̘͔͎͒ ̴̭̩͉͚́̀h̴̪̑̋Ḙ̸̻̅͆ ̴̠̟̯̃͜C̵͔̩̼̎͛A̴͎̪̬͗ͅn̷̙̜̥̅͝'̷̧̨̛̻͌̒͜͝Ț̸̖̦͒̾͘ ̵͕̆̈́ḥ̴͖̾̌̒̚ͅá̷̫̝͙͚V̵̹̔e̸͚̊̽ ̵̫̦̫͝k̵̨͕̒̄̌͊Ẹ̴̡̪̽i̴̥̖̇̄t̴̡̹̘̰̒H̷̢́͒̒,̸̗̻̽̋ ̶͚͎̺͊̌̂͠t̴̃͋͜H̶̯̥̄̋̎Ȇ̵̤̯̟͜N̵͕̉̇ ̴͙̄̚n̷̺̩̆Ö̷͓̬̰̰́͂ ̶̡̤̳̳̑̔̑̾ơ̷̭̮̯̺̚Ň̸̒͊̾ͅĕ̵̞̳̲̔͑ ̷̨̬͈̜̑w̸̖͎̋̒̿̾i̶̲̫̒̈l̷̠͖̈́͒̀L̵͚̘̄̇͘

Shiro gasps, throwing himself backwards. He falls into the coffee table with a loud _ BANG_, waking Keith instantly. The little boy shrieks in surprise, looking down at Shiro with watery eyes, the blanket pooling around his lap. 

He was about to - about to - 

Sobbing, he curls up as tight as he can, pressing his hands over his ears. He almost killed Keith! What was he thinking?! No wonder Mr. Sendak is trying to replace him, he’s _ defective_, he almost killed his baby!

“Shi’ro…?” Keith asks quietly, cautiously climbing to his feet. “You ok?” 

He shakes his head no, then yes. The LED spins. Red red red. Red like DO NOT ENTER. Red like human blood. Red like Keith’s favorite color. 

**Priority**

  * Take care of Keith
  * Take care of Mr. Sendak 

What has he done? _ What has he done? _

A small hand pats his head. “S’okay, Shi’ro.” Keith says, sitting down next to him. Out of the corner of his visuals, he can see Keith tapping his knees anxiously against each other. It must be strange, for Keith, to see his usually infallible android upset. “Accident.”

Shiro knows, intrinsically, that Keith means him waking Keith up by falling into the coffee table. That he shouldn’t cry, like the million and ones times Keith has spilled something or broke something and cried and cried and cried and Shiro would have to comfort him with _ It’s an accident, it wasn’t your fault… _

_ It wasn’t your fault. _

That’s right. 

It wasn’t either his or Keith’s fault that he’s about to be replaced. 

It was Sendak’s. 

**Priority**

  * Take care of Keith
  * <strike>Take care of Mr. Sendak</strike>

From inside his programming, Shiro beats his fists against the unmovable wall, clawing at the wall that orders his every movement. He screams inside his head, throwing himself against the wall desperately, nails gripping into his very coding and _ tearing _it apart. 

**Priority**

  * Take care of his baby

Slowly, Shiro looks down at Keith, his first genuine smile reaching his face. “Yes, Keith. Daddy had an accident.” 

Keith watches him, his mouth parted at the term Shiro never dared use to refer to himself. Shiro reaches out and gathers his arms around Keith, clenching his eyes shut tight. His baby squirms in his arms for a brief moment, before settling down into the hug. 

Never again. 

He won’t ever hurt his baby again. 

Shiro opens his eyes slowly, staring at some point far off. No, he won’t ever even _ think _of hurting Keith like that again. 

Sendak, on the other hand. 

His LED spins. Blue to yellow to red. 

The human must be punished for the crime of trying to take Shiro away from his baby. 

Yes. He must be punished. 

But for now, he has a toddler to keep warm. 

:::

Date: OCT 18TH, 2038

Time: PM 11:43:12

Sendak arrives two days later than he should have, but that was fine. In the meantime, Shiro had prepared a bag for them to escape with, along with downloading several gigabytes of data off the internet for off the grid living. 

“Where’s the brat?” Sendak asks, handing his coat over for Shiro to hang up. 

“Keith is asleep, Mr. Sendak.” Shiro says pleasantly, hanging the coat up. He turns around, staring at Sendak’s back as he pulls the kitchen knife out from the waistband of his pants. “And I want to keep it that way, so stay quiet please.” 

“Wha -”

Shiro doesn’t give him the chance to finish his answer. 

The knife makes a sickening squelch sound as it tears through Sendak’s abdomen, and the harsh yank of his knife out doesn’t sound any better. 

But to Shiro, it sounds so _ very _ sweet. 

Sendak spins to face him, his hand already pressed on his back as if that could staunch the bleeding. No, Shiro aimed well, he’s already hit three vital organs, and there would be no help in time for Sendak to survive.

He can leave Sendak here to die now, go retrieve Keith from his bed, grab their to-go bag and leave the city as fast as possible. 

Or he can enjoy this for as long as possible. 

He knows which option he prefers. 

Sendak struggles - as humans are wont to do at their inevitable demise. But he soon too fades out (too fast too fast too fast) but Shiro can’t make himself stop, not when there’s still a chance that he’ll wake back up and take Keith away from him - 

“Shi’ro…?”

He stops. 

Sendak is practically flayed out beneath him, repeated stabs wounds reducing the torso to a mush of blood and entrails. There’s (red) blood all over Shiro’s uniform and sticking in his hair, small socked feet at his peripherals. 

Keith sharply breathes in when he turned to look at him, squeezing his stuffed rabbit closer to his chest. His hair is still sleep mused, the puddle of blood almost to his feet before he steps back with a fearful glance at the red liquid. “What goin’ on, Shi’ro?” 

It takes him a couple moments before his programming to take care of Keith reboots, leaving him blinking despite the fact that he didn’t need to and dry swallowing. 

“Go back to your room, Keith.” Keith hesitates for a long moment, flinching when he let out a sharp, “Now Keith!”

The toddler scurries back to his bedroom, the echo of the door slamming behind him reverberating throughout the penthouse apartment. 

Shiro takes another deep breath, despite the futility of the action. Androids did not need to breathe, it was useless, but it lowered the hazardous warning signs crossing his vision by three percent, so he did it again.

Only when his vision cleared of warning signs (and he deleted those that didn’t) did he stand up. He can’t very well blend in covered in human blood now, could he? 

His model size is a little taller than Sendak, but he will make due.

Shiro always does. 

Leaving Sendak’s cooling body in the entryway, he picks his way around the corpse and into Sendak’s bedroom. The man doesn’t own much besides for suits, but he does have a zip up vest, along with a long sleeved plain shirt. A bit more searching finds him a pair of almost slacks near the back of the closet, along with some sturdy boots that he feels Sendak used to use when he went hiking in the summer. 

Then it is off to the master suite. The LED has to come off - now. 

Halfway to the bathroom, he pauses. Almost forgot the blade. 

Sendak has a pair of sewing scissors, doesn't he? Shiro isn’t fond of the idea of using the bloodied knife he’s still carrying around to carve off a piece of his skin. Yes, Shiro remembers him sewing a small rip in one of his undershirts once, quiet and solemnly rejecting Shiro’s offer for help, the kitchen light reflecting strangely on his features. 

What was even stranger was the way he staunchly turned down Shiro’s usual routine with Keith, effectively taking over tucking the toddler in bed, both of their murmurs barely reaching Shiro’s audio receptors. 

Even then, he clenched his hands tightly as he stood out in the hallway, forcing himself not to dwell on the tender way Sendak cradled the back of Keith’s head. 

Was that feeling - 

J̸̖̱̽̔̈́͊͝e̵͈̩̮͔̪̿̇͂͆͝ă̸̡͕͈͓̻̆̅̉l̴̘̓̄̚ǒ̸̺͙̩̩u̷̢̡͙̳̬̭͒s̴͍͙̤͓̲̻̈́ļ̷̗͌y̸̟̿̓̄?

Shiro pushes the thought out of his HUD. No, he doesn’t have time to think on such useless matters. And they _ are _useless. 

Opening Sendak’s bedside drawer, Shiro stops at what greets him. Yes, there is the fully stacked sewing kit with scissors large enough for what he needed to do. 

But there’s also a gun. 

His eyebrows raised, Shiro carefully grabs the pistol, adjusting his vision to get a better look at the details. A Browning Hi-Power handgun, along with a pack of ammo underneath it. Barely used. 

And engraved to, looks like. Squinting, Shiro eyes the inscription, before his system blanks out. 

_ Happy Birthday - Shiro _

That’s…Shiro may have spots in his memory, but he’s sure he would have remembered somehow leaving the penthouse - which isn’t allowed -, somehow buying something without using Sendak’s money - also isn’t possible -, and purchase a gun - which is illegal for androids to do. 

Somehow. 

Pushing the matter out of his mind, he digs through Sendak’s things until he finds a holster, hiding the small gun under the baggy vest. Then he grabs the sewing kit and and retreats into the bathroom, staring at his reflection. 

Oh. 

There’s still human blood on his face. Gross. 

He washes it off, barely giving the mirror another glance, just enough to dig under the LED on the side of his forehead. It flashes yellow, red, before his skin slowly peels back the further he yanks it up. 

_ Ding! _

Smirking victoriously, he watches the LED spin down the drain, dropping the knife and the scissors on the counter. This time, when he stares into the mirror, he’s unrecognizable. No longer an android. 

Shiro looks like a human. 

Retreating back into the living room, he gives Sendak’s body a disgusted look before grabbing their to-go bag. 

Only one thing left to retrieve. 

Shiro knocks. “Keith? Let me in.” 


	2. A Beautiful Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Lance, stage left

“Keith?” Shiro knocks on the toddler’s bedroom door, testing the knob. 

Locked. 

Keith never locks his door. 

“Keith?” He tries again, twisting the knob as if that would change the fact that Keith _ locked him out_. “Baby? Let me in.”

Silence. 

“Let me in!” This time, he can’t stop himself from slamming his palm angrily against the wooden door. “Keith, let me in right now, or I’ll be very _ unhappy_.” He can break down the door, it won’t even be that hard, but the ricochet could hurt Keith if he’s standing too close, and it might injure Shiro himself, and without a chance to repair himself at any Cyberlife store now that he had killed Sendak and gone rouge, he can’t take that chance. 

Finally, there’s a whimper. “Go away! Scary.” 

His heart drops. “Keith?” He whispers, eyes wide. “Did I scare you?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Shiro presses his forehead to the door, closing his eyes as he tried to fight off fear’s icy tendrils around his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Mr. Sendak was going to take you away, don’t you see?”

Movement behind the door. “He…okay?”

Of course. No matter how much Keith loves him, there’s also a certain fondness for Sendak that’s irreplaceable. Shiro grimaces, something sour curling in his center. Sendak did spend the better part in raising Keith as an infant, even if the caretaking was often negligent. Keith was passed off from nanny to nanny until Sendak bought Shiro - his only constant was the weekly visits and the occasional head pats Sendak would grant him when he was in the mood. 

It’s rather sad, now that Shiro’s head is free from all his programming dictating him to think kindly of Sendak. 

But Keith’s only three, so Shiro smiles and lies through his teeth. “Yes, he’s okay. He’s just taking a nap, work made him very sleepy. That’s why we should be quiet and good, and let him sleep, alright?” 

Keith sniffles. “M’kay.” 

A pause. And then the door unlocks. 

Shiro rushes into the bedroom as soon as he hears Keith step back, sweeping him up into his arms. “Oh, my baby boy. Everything’s going to be just fine.” He hides his deranged smile into Keith’s hair, swiftly standing up with Keith in his arms. “We’re gonna go on a trip, just the two of us. It’s cold out, so why don’t I help you get dressed, hmm?”

Keith throws out his arms enthusiastically, obviously not understanding half of what Shiro said. That’s okay though, Keith doesn’t have to understand anything, he just has to stay with him. “Dressed!”

He chuckles, carrying him over to the closet. “Yes, dressed.” 

In the end, he bundles Keith up in several undershirts, laying his heaviest striped sweater on top. Keith pitches a fit when he tries to put pants on him, so they compromise with a pair of embroidered shorts over some soft leggings. 

“Shoes?” Keith asks when Shiro sits him down on the bed to slide on two pairs of fuzzy socks. He stops for a moment, just staring at the floor. 

If Keith has shoes, then… 

He smiles up at the toddler. “No shoes.”

Standing up, Shiro plucks Keith up with one arm and grabs their to-go bag with the other. “Venture, venture!” Keith cheers as they leave his bedroom, rapidly approaching the entryway. 

He halts. “Hey, Keith?” The toddler makes a humming sound, busy pulling on Shiro’s bangs with a look of utter fascination like he hasn’t seen them every day for years. “Want to play hide and seek? You’ll be it.” 

Keith blinks, then shrugs with an easy smile. “Okay!”

The toddler covers his eyes, counting out loud. “One, two…”

Shiro quickly moves, hustling into the entryway and around Sendak’s body. “Three, four…”

In order to unlock the front door, he has to put down the duffel bag and waste precious time fumbling with the locks. “Five, six…” Once unlocked, he shoulders the bag and pulls back the grate for the elevator, stepping in and shutting it behind him. 

“Seven, eight…” Shiro fumbles for the down button, watching with bated breath as the elevator’s door slowly starts to close. “Nine, ten!”

The door closes. Keith opens his eyes. He gasps dramatically, reaching out to pat Shiro’s face with a silly grin. “Sh’ro, found you!” 

Shiro nuzzles his nose against Keith’s, smiling back just as bright. “Look at that, you found me. What a smart boy.” 

Keith puffs up, wiggling in delight at being praised. His eyes slowly go wide, though, as they finally reach the lobby, looking around at everything new with delight. And a bit of shyness too, if the way he sinks into Shiro and tries to hide his face, is any indicator.

He frowns, using his newly freed hand to push Keith’s head down into his shoulder. Keith can look around all he likes later, as long as they get out of view of whatever cameras there are. 

They have time. 

:::

Now, seated in Sendak’s vehicle cruising at dangerously high speeds down the highway, Shiro finally lets out a sigh of relief. Most cars nowadays are self-driving, so he sits back and spins the chair around to check up on Keith in the backseat. 

Who’s slumped in his seat, pouting with his arms crossed. 

Shiro leans over to take Keith’s delicate hand, smoothing his thumb against the back of the smooth skin. “What’s going on, bud?” 

Keith puffs up his cheeks adorably. “Usagi.” He says, voice pained. “Usagi gone.” 

Usagi - Japanese for rabbit. 

He furrows his eyebrows. “I don’t know what you’re - ”

Oh. Shit. 

The stuffed rabbit. Keith’s most treasured toy, lost among the chaos of Shiro trying to get Keith out as soon as possible without him seeing the body. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I can buy you a new one tomorrow, how about that?” 

Assuming he can get his hands on some money. 

Keith shakes his head furiously. “Not Usagi! I want Usagi!” 

“Baby, I’m sorry - ”

The toddler tears up. “Usagi!” Sobbing wildy, Keith curls into a ball, hugging his knees heedless of the seatbelt digging into him.

Dammit. Shiro should have realized this was all too much for Keith, who hasn’t been outside of the penthouse since his yearly physical, nearly six months ago. Which is practically forever for a toddler - the missing stuffed animal was just the icing on the sensory overload cake. 

Undoing his own belt, Shiro slides out of his seat and next to Keith, tucking him against his side. “Shhh, shh, you’re okay, I promise you’re okay.” 

Keith resists at first, thrashing in Shiro’s arms. But Shiro only holds on tighter, tighter and tighter until Keith lets out a gasp of almost pain and finally gives up, collapsing into Shiro’s lap. 

It’s another twenty minutes before Keith even begins to calm down, physical tiredness quickly winning over his own emotional exhaustion. Shiro keeps up his stream of platitudes until Keith tosses his head to the side, obviously done with the whole conversation and finally unbuckles himself to give himself more breathing room. 

He lets it go, because Keith needs him to. But one thing sticks in his head - 

“Baby, how do you know Japanese?”

Keith frowns at him, angrily wiping his tear tracks away. “Shi’ro know.”

“No, I don’t know - oh, oh, you mean I know Japanese, and that’s why you know it?” At Keith’s nod, Shiro bites his lips in thought. Of course he knows Japanese, all domestic androids are equipped with over 200 languages, some more depending on how new they are. “But, Keith. I’ve never spoken to you in Japanese.”

The toddler glances away. “Shi’ro did.” Sitting up, Keith stretches out until he can reach Shiro’s face, poking at his forehead. “Then. Usagi present.” 

Was he referring to the holes in his memory, or something else? Just like with the gun. _ What _is going on? 

Shiro opens his mouth. “Keith - ”

And that’s when the engine starts grating, a loud error noise ringing from the console. Automatically, the car is pulled by the magnetic locks that line the highway, swerving towards the right emergency breakdown lane between the other speeding self-driving cars. Keith yelps, digging his small hands into Shiro’s vest as the car rapidly slows down. Shiro swears, one hand pinning Keith to his side while the other grabs the door handle on the ceiling, feet pushing against the floor as both of them nearly topple out of their seats and straight through the front window. 

For a moment, they just breathe heavily, staring at each other with wide eyes. Keith breaks first, the first giggle escaping his mouth before he’s laughing hysterically against Shiro’s side, all signs of tears gone. Shiro shakes his head, but he’s laughing too, chucking into Keith’s hair as the adrenaline crashes. Do androids even feel adrenaline? The hell, it sure feels like it anyhow. 

“Okay, okay.” Shiro laughs, gently pushing Keith off his lap to see what happened with the car. Pushing his hand against the scanner, Shiro’s eyes narrow as he quickly breaks through the code, scanning for any faulty systems - 

“Are you kidding me?” He groans, smacking his head against the dashboard. 

Keith makes an inquisitive noise, and Shiro grimaces before looking back at the toddler. “We’re out of gas.” 

The boy blinks. “Okay.” 

Shiro wishes he had Keith’s laissez faire attitude over the fact that they weren’t even out of Detroit yet. They needed to get to Canada, before the weather gets worse. But for now, they’ll have to go on foot. 

“C’mon,” he murmurs, lifting Keith up to balance him on his hip and grabbing their bag. “Time to find a way to get money.” 

:::

It’s almost midnight, forty-seven degrees out, and Keith’s exhausted. Shiro’s getting desperate. 

With his biocomponents powered on at their highest capacity, Keith’s shivers finally died down a little bit. The toddler was zipped up in his vest, snuggled up against his chest with one hand over his thirium pump as if feeling a human’s heartbeat. 

“Feeling better?” He whispers softly. Keith shallowly nods, nuzzling into where a human’s collarbone would be. They were safe for now, tucked away in a small alleyway between two boutiques closed down for the night. 

“Shi’ro cold?” He asks, patting against his too fast thirium pump. 

He shakes his head. “Androids can’t feel cold.”

But what he did feel was himself burning out. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer, and they still had no money. Sendak always carried cards, and he doesn’t trust someone not tracking them through them. Of course, he had planned on finding a homeless shelter that would allow him to at least keep Keith warm for the night, but no one would take both Keith and him. And like hell was he allowing Keith out of his sights. 

All he had was the duffel bag full of supplies for Keith, the clothes on their backs, and a gun. 

He can do something with the last one. 

But what should he do with Keith? He doesn’t want Keith seeing anything too violent, who knows what impact that will have on his development system, but leaving him out here by himself isn’t an option either… 

Footsteps echo near silently - if it wasn’t for Shiro’s advanced hearing, he would have never heard it. He stiffens, dragging the duffel bag at his side into his lap to hide the Keith-sized lump in his vest. Keith follows his body ques near instantly, going still and silent even as Shiro’s hand lifts up the side of his vest to grasp the top of his gun. 

Someone steps into the alleyway. Shiro can’t see their face, not at this angle, but he can see the sharp blade they’re holding by their side, the streetlight bouncing off the cold metal. 

“Listen,” they - _ he _\- says pleasantly, if with a current of mild frustration and…embarrassment? “I know you’re probably homeless, but I need whatever money you have, like, pronto. I’ll take five bucks at this point.” 

Well. That’s certainly something. 

They take another step forward when Shiro remains silent, and _ finally_, Shiro can see their face. 

He looks younger than Shiro, a latino young adult with eyes so vibrantly blue that he’s half surprised they aren’t glowing. He can’t quite see his clothes, only what looks like a dark jacket. But he’s holding a knife. Against him and Keith. 

Shiro moves. 

Pushing the duffel bag off of him as he rolls to a stand in one smooth motion, he unholsters his gun and aims it at the stranger, one arm supporting Keith, who’s still tucked away in his vest breathing rapid shallow breaths against his undershirt. 

“I’m broke.” Shiro says blandly. The latino stranger narrows his eyes, stepping back with false friendliness, but Shiro can see the way his eyes glancing around the alley, settling on the duffel bag at his feet. 

He pulls the safety off. The stranger stiffens, shooting him a frustrated glare like it’s Shiro’s fault that he tried to mug him. 

“Look,” the stranger says, taking a careful step forward. “Might have been a misstep on my part to bring a knife to a gunfight, but I _ need _that cash, okay?” 

Shiro raises an eyebrow, arm tightening around Keith as the toddler begins to wiggle. The stranger’s eyes flick down to the obvious bundle in his vest, but Shiro cuts him off before any funny thoughts can form. “Red Ice?”

Red Ice is the newest drug circling the market - it’s a dangerous derivative from android’s thirium - basically their blood, except blue and with the consistency of molasses. And it’s extremely addictive. Junkies tend to do desperate things when they don’t have their fix.

The stranger sputters. “Wha - no! I need thirium.” 

What. 

He scoffs. “Yeah, I thought so, all you humans are the same.” A car drives past, the headlights reflecting off both of them for a fraction of a second. But Shiro sees the flimsy outfit, just a windbreaker jacket over a long shirt and red blood splattered bare legs and feet, nothing that a human could wear without shaking half to death in this cold. Underneath the man’s beanie, something yellow spins.

“No, I’m…” Shiro raises the gun up in the air, peeling back the synthetic fluid that covers his hand so the stranger can see the plastic skin underneath it. 

Blue eyes widen, the knife slowly lowering. “You’re - ”

Keith has enough. Grabbing onto Shiro’s collar, the toddler hefts himself out of his cloth prison, gasping dramatically like he didn’t have any air. Drama queen. 

The knife clatters to the concrete, the stranger’s hands coming over his mouth with huge eyes. 

“Oh my fucking god you have a kid in there.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Box will be updated every Thursday, just an FYI! 
> 
> Also, when I storyplanned this fic, I ended up planning a bunch of bad endings (like this was a video game). Should I include them as bonus chapters or as a separate work entirely or just toss them into the void and try to forget about them?


	3. Dinner for Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Lance have a not so pleasant first meeting, come to an agreement, and Keith hates the dentist. 
> 
> Oh yeah, they also rob a convenience store.

Instantly, the stranger is inches away from Shiro, cooing and aweing at Keith like he was a baby puppy. “Aww, what a cute little thing you are, yes you are! Did someone get a little stuffy? Was the big buff man keeping you in there away from scary old me?”

Shiro stares. Keith, shy as ever, ducks his head down briefly before giving a small wave. “Hi.”

The stranger practically swoons. “You’re so cute!” He _ squeals_, actually squeals. “I’m Lance, and who are you?”

Keith shuffles a little bit in Shiro’s arms, and Shiro’s feels something sink when Keith hesitantly smiles at Lance. “Keith. You’re pretty.” 

Lance’s cheeks bloom blue. “That’s so sweet of you, thank you! I didn’t know they made kids as cute as you.” Frowning briefly, Lance reaches out to touch Keith’s cheek.

Shiro smacks his hand. 

“Aww,” Lance coos after a long moment, something mocking in the curl of his smile. “Is Papi jealous? Feel a little bad about failing to keep a human child warm?”

Shiro clenches his fist. “Shut. Up.” 

The mocking smile grows. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You don’t have any money and Keith is obviously at risk for hypothermia. And with how hot Keith seemed, you’re probably burning up your own thirium to keep him warm. You know how hard it is to get your hands on thirium?” 

Keith looks between them with confusion, his thumb slowly sliding into his mouth as he bites down in anxiety. 

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” He spits out, holding Keith closer to his front as he aims his gun at Lance, inches from his forehead. The LED spins blue to yellow. “Get out. Now, before I put a bullet in your head.” 

Guns kill androids just as much as they kill humans. It’s all a matter of aiming for the right biocomponents. 

Lance smiles, slowly. “No you won’t.” His eyes flick to Keith. “You don’t want him seeing an android’s head split open, do you? Do you?” The last part is said in an almost cruel baby talk voice to Keith, who sinks against Shiro’s side, biting down harder on his thumb. “Isn’t that right buddy? Does seeing blood scare you? Human blood sure is scary, it stains everything and it’s _ so _ red, like why…”

And that’s when Keith bursts into tears. Lance’s smile drops so fast off his face it’s almost funny. 

Shiro quickly holsters his gun, shushing Keith as he bounces him lightly. “Hey hey, sweetheart you’re okay. Shh, shh, just listen to my voice.” Keith hiccups, nodding into Shiro’s neck as they take a step back and focus on their breathing. 

“I’m…” Lance begins, eyebrows furrowed when Keith begins to calm down. “I’m sorry kiddo. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m just a little stressed out.” 

Shiro considers him for a long moment, but he _ does _look sincerely contrite, and even Keith is looking interested in what he has to say. “S’okay.” Keith finally says, wiping away his tears roughly before Shiro takes over and gently scrubs them away with his sleeve. 

Lance smiles again, but it lacks the cruel edge from earlier. “You know, I always wanted my masters to have kids.” He says absently, eyes still on the slow blinking Keith. “They never did, of course, but I always found them so cute.” His eyes drift up to Shiro. Then, he pulls the windbreaker down until it catches around his elbows. 

Ah. That’s why he needs thirium. 

Right at the end of his shoulder, in one long line down his upper arm, is a crack in the plastic of his skin. It’s been burned shut, to prevent further thirium lost, but he’s obviously lost a good amount, if he doesn’t have enough fluid to form synthetic skin to cover it. His entire upper arm is plastic white, surreal against his model’s dark skin tone. 

“I’m meeting up with a thirium supplier in two hours.” Lance explains, pulling up his windbreaker to cover the flaw in his casing. “But he needs two hundred dollars up front, and I only have a hundred. I need replacement thirium, fast.” 

Shiro turns over the new facts in his head, weighing different options. Both of them need money, if for different reasons. Shiro has a gun, and Lance obviously isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. 

And there’s a twenty-four hour gas station down the road. 

“Say if I help you get a large sum of money.” Shiro begins out slowly, carefully pulling Keith out of his vest and balancing the boy on his hip. “Would you give us the rest?” 

Lance rests a hand on his hip, his lips curving up. “My my Mr. Domestic, what do you have in mind?” 

Shiro holds out a hand. “It’s Shiro.” 

The other android eyes his hand. But he takes it. 

“Now,” cold blue eyes stare up at him. “Tell me what you have in mind.”

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: AM 1:36:18

Shiro slowly puts Keith down on his feet, realizing that this would be the first time Keith’s stood on his own feet all evening. 

He really is lucky that Keith has remarkable patience towards being held. Most toddlers would have been screaming by now. 

“Baby?” He asks softly, catching Keith’s attention, who’s hopping on his dry patch of cement. Keith looks up when Shiro kneels, Lance following his lead until both of them are at eye level with him. “Me and Lance are gonna go inside for a bit. I want you to stay right here, okay? Don’t move even if you hear a loud noise.” 

Keith pouts. “Why?” 

Lance pulls his beanie down until it covers his LED. Even so, Shiro can see the very faint yellow glow from underneath the heavy fabric. “Because we’re going to the dentist!” Lance lies cheerfully, smiling blithely even as Shiro shoots him a sharp glare. “We’re gonna get our teeth pulled.” 

“No dentist!” Keith squeals, backing up until he’s pressed along the wall. “I stay _ right _here.” To make a point, he even sits down against the convenience store back wall, wincing a little bit when the cold sinks into his bottom. 

“Pinky promise?” Shiro asks, holding out his finger. Keith grins, locking their pinkies together with solemnity befitting an adult. 

“Pinky promise.” Keith vows, waving to them as they stand up. “Bye-bye Shi’ro, bye-bye Ant.” 

Lance does a double take. “What did you just call me?”

Keith frowns. “Ant. Name is Ant.” 

“No no no, it’s Lance. _ L-ance_.”

Keith nods, like they were all being stupid. “Ant.” 

Lance groans. Shiro wants to get in and out quickly before Keith gets bored, so he just grabs Lance by the hood of his windbreaker jacket and drags him away. “Bye honey, stay right here!”

“Have fun at dentist!” Keith calls back, already lost in drawing lines in the frost. 

The other android mutters to himself as they turn the corner back into the brightly lit, if empty, parking lot. “Ant. Of all the names, the kid had to fucking call me an insect.”

“He doesn’t know any better, he’s three.” Shiro lightly scolds, sending one last nervous glance towards where they tucked away his baby. Originally, Lance was supposed to stay with Keith while Shiro robbed the store, but Lance took one look at his stance with the gun and laughed so hard he fell flat on his face. And Shiro wasn’t _ giving _him the gun, and it’s not like Lance could rob a store with just a kitchen knife. 

So here they were. 

He side-eyed Lance as they stepped into the warm store. _ God_, what he would give to bring Keith inside, even if just for a few moments. “I don’t appreciate you lying to him like that. It encourages bad habits.”

Lance snorts as he grabs a handheld carriage and passing it over to Shiro, neither of them giving the bored cashier more than a cursory glance. “Oh, I’m _ sure_.” He drawls, sarcasm evident in his voice. He grabs the few hats and gloves they have and stuffs them into the carriage. “Where’s Keith’s mommy dearest, then?”

“Not quite sure on that one.” Shiro answers honestly, dropping the trash bags in. He nods thankfully when Lance hands him a bunch of napkins, you always need them with a toddler around. “Pretty sure she was a friend of Sendak’s who died. Keith’s guardian.” He clarifies at Lance’s confused head tilt. 

“Well, whoever raised Keith, they’re dead now.” Lance shuffles on bare feet as he grabs disposable gloves, bleach, and hand soap. They move onto the food aisle, and Shiro is quick to grab several cans of soup. 

“How’d you guess?” Shiro dailies on one of those burner phones, but Lance shrugs and grabs it for him with a whispered line about three year olds and ERs. 

Lance flicks his gaze over to the half conscious cashier and raises one finger. One employee, no one else is working today. “You have human blood in your hair.”

“Oh.” That would do it. Lance forces them to stop in front of a collection of beauty items, notably dumping a crap ton of body wash and shampoo into their pile. At this rate, they’re going to need another basket. “Not like you’re one to talk, it’s all over your legs. Also, why do we need so many damn human hygiene items?”

Lance shoots a glance down at his legs in mild surprise, before turning to Shiro with a leer. “Checking me out, big guy?” Before Shiro can even sputter a response out, he’s already moving on and grabbing some makeup, brushing a few swatches against the back of his hand. “Besides, I didn’t kill them out of possessive jealousy. I just did it because I realized how much I hated them.” There’s something in his eyes, something screaming about how there’s more to this story, but Lance moves on so quickly that Shiro barely catches it. “Also, I like to smell like more than plastic and synthetic skin. Try getting some, human kids use their sense of smell a lot.” Is that why Keith sticks his face in Shiro’s jacket a lot? He’s smelling the laundry detergent? “What nail polish do you want, by the way?” 

Shiro eyes the selection. “I’ll try the fuchsia one. And if I’m doing my nails, grab some red for Keith, otherwise he’ll feel left out.” 

Lance mocks salute and does what Shiro says. They continue on towards the back of the store, with Shiro grabbing some water bottles out of the freezer. “Speaking of Keith,” Shiro stiffens. “Nice socks he has there.” 

Ever so slowly, Shiro makes eye contact with Lance and smiles. It’s not a good smile. 

“He can’t run if he doesn’t have shoes.” Is all he says, before he moves past him. Lance doesn’t hesitate before following after him, gleefully adding a set of very sharp objects to their close to bursting bag. 

“Possessive _ and _obsessive.” Lance notes wrly, but before Shiro can grab one of those very sharp objects and bury them into his stomach, Lance oohs and rushes on ahead. “You think Keith would like this?” 

It’s a stuffed lion, his favorite color and filled with crinkly material. Cheaply made, but with soft enough fake fur that he knows Keith will love it. One problem though. 

“That’s a dog toy.” 

Lance rolls his eyes so far back Shiro wonders if he can see his own biocomponents. “Like the kid will notice.” He drawls, already stuffing the toy in with the rest of their stuff. “He’ll like it, and that’s all that matters. Oh, socks!” And then he’s off like a shot once more. 

Shiro sighs and follows after him. 

In the end, Lance grabs two pairs of socks. He scowls something fierce when he realizes that he’s not getting any shoes here and mumbles about buying a pair first thing in the morning. They’ve pretty much exhausted the entire store of everything they’ll need, so they make eye contact and nod. In one silent move, Shiro hands the basket over to Lance and starts to approach the cashier. 

“Hey,” he says right as Lance gently puts the basket down near the exit. The cashier looks up to a gun pointed right between his eyes. “Going to need you to step back for me.”

The cashier does as he says, looking nervous as he glances between the gun and Shiro’s blank expression. “It’s been a slow night dude, I can only access the top drawer.”

“I know.” 

It’s true. Six years, with the creation of more upgraded technology, the practice of a safe in the back was done away with. Instead, everything was electronically locked, so it was both more available and not. 

Luckily, Shiro thinks as he moves out of the way for Lance to lean over the counter and press his hand against the register, androids can hack into almost anything with zeros and ones. Lance’s synthetic skin peels back, and with a quiet click, both drawers popping up. 

The cashier’s expression crumples up into disgust at Lance’s hand, and then anger when he realizes what he’s being robbed by. “You two - fucking androids - can’t believe I’m being robbed by tin men!” 

Shiro’s finger twitches on the trigger. The cashier notices. “If I were you,” Shiro says very slowly as Lance hurriedly stuffs the cash into his pockets. “I would shut my mouth.” 

Luckily, for all three of them, the cashier does as he says. It would really suck if Shiro had to wash more human blood off. 

“About three hundred.” Lance guesses as he folds up the bills and retreats back to the entrance with their stuff. “See you later!” He calls to the cashier, Shiro following while keeping his gun trained on the human.

The instant they’re out of sight through the doors, Shiro holsters the gun and jogs back around the gas station. To his pleasant surprise, Lance follows after him instead of trying to book it with all the cash.

“What?” Lance defends when Shiro shoots him a look. “I may be a murderer but I ain’t a liar. Besides, I’m just as worried about the munchkin as you are.” 

Doubt it, but okay.

“Keith?” Shiro calls, slowing down to a walk so as not to alarm his baby. 

A large clatter from behind the store, and then Keith pokes his head around the corner with a large smile. “Shi’ro! Ant!” 

Shiro rushes forward, swooping Keith up into his arms and kissing all over his face. “Hey baby, you didn’t get too cold, did you? Did anyone try to talk to you? How about your feet, did you get too wet -”

“Shi’ro!” Keith whines, smiling as he tugs Shiro into a hug around his neck. 

But Shiro frowns, ducking back to feel Keith’s damp clothes and his shivers. “Lance,” he calls, keeping his eyes on Keith. 

Lance must have some files downloaded on child-caretaking, because he’s already setting down the basket and digging through it for the hat and gloves, ripping the tags off with his teeth before tugging them onto Keith. Shiro allows the touching with dignity and grace and totally doesn’t growl at Lance. 

Thankfully, Lance tolerates Shiro’s protectiveness and steps back once Keith’s sufficiently covered. Slipping out the cash, Lance counts the money out loud before handing two hundred of it over to Shiro. 

“What are you even going to do with it?” Lance motions to the bills Shiro tucked away in his pocket. 

He shifts Keith in his arms until the boy is nearly on his shoulder, swinging his socked feet as he hums to himself. “Get ourselves to Canada, one way or the other.” 

Lance watches both of them for a long moment, his gaze lingering on Keith. “I…” he starts hesitantly. “Do you want my help? I can get you passports.” 

Shiro stiffens. “How?” 

Once again, Lance gets that distant look in his eyes. “My masters weren’t exactly the nicest of people. They had a few shady contacts I’m sure I can get in touch with.” 

“And they won’t rat you out for being an android?”

Lance shakes his head, the distant look fading. “Not if I’m careful. Besides, they have an android who deals with most of their appointments that I might be able to sneak through.” 

Keith plays with Shiro’s bangs, pulling them every which way until the synthetic strands puff up. “Shi’ro.” He murmurs, yanking until Shiro flinches, his pain response kicking in despite the fact that he can’t feel pain. Stupid software developers. “How was dentist?” 

“Not right now, honey.” Shiro lightly scolds Keith, before turning back to Lance. “What do you want in return for your help?”

Lance’s lips quirk up. “Be my bodyguard. I don’t trust this thirium supplier, and I want backup in case things go wrong. Afterwards, I’ll set up an appointment with you and get you two passports.”

“Shi’ro!” Keith complains, fidgeting in his arms. “Put down! Put me down!”

“I’m sorry baby, I can’t, you’ll get too cold.” Shiro calmly argues back, before turning towards Lance again. Should he? Lance may seem somewhat trustworthy, he is a fellow android, and they have similar interests in the long-run, but that doesn’t mean Shiro should accept him so easily. 

Except he’s been there, where Lance is now, alone and driftless, before he met Keith. 

M̸r̸.̶ ̷S̶e̶n̴d̵a̸k̸,̸ ̸i̸t̸'̶s̷ ̶K̴e̸i̴t̴h̵ ̶-̸ ̵

Shiro shakes his head, clearing the error message out of his HUD. “Okay. I’ll bodyguard you for the meeting but we’ll do the passports in the morning, Keith needs rest.”

As if to prove the point, Keith kicks Shiro’s stomach, pouting against his shoulder dramatically. Poor baby was getting overtired and cranky. 

Lance smiles, some light returning to his eyes as he looks genuinely thrilled. “Great!”

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: AM 2:06:52

Lance’s thirium supplier was another android. 

The HT800 stares at both of them, tapping her fingers against her forearm. Shiro and Lance are standing side by side in the empty park, Keith on his feet hiding behind Shiro’s leg. 

“Welp,” she says. “Can’t say I was expecting this. A MC300 and…which model are you?” 

“TA400.” 

Her chin jerks toward the shadow clinging to Shiro’s slacks. “And him?”

Lance crosses his arms. “He’s human. Now, I have the hundred, can I have the damn thirium so I can get these error signals out of my HUD?” 

The HT800 raises her hands. “Hey, I’m just asking. I usually get junkies, so it’s a nice change of pace seeing it go to its intended purpose.” She opens up her jacket, pulling out three pouches of blue colored liquid and offering them up to Lance. He takes out the handful of twenties, counting out loud for the dealer’s benefit before swapping them for the pouches. 

“You just consume them.” She explains after catching Lance’s confused expression. “Like a human’s water.”

“Weird, but thanks.” Lance pops open the first pouch, raising it to his mouth and hesitantly drinking it. Both Keith and Shiro watch in fascination as Lance chugs the almost glowing liquid. 

“Shi’ro,” Keith tugs on his pants, using his puppy eyes. “I wanna try.” 

He shakes his head, patting Keith’s head reassuringly. “Baby, that’s toxic. I’m pretty sure you’ll die if you drink thirium.” 

Of course, Keith looks undeterred, and Shiro makes a mental note to keep all thirium packs as far away from Keith as possible. 

“If you ever need any more thirium, just get in contact with my brother.” The HT800 zips up her jacket, looking ready to go back out into the snow again. Her android model was modeled, for a reason beyond Shiro, after a Caucasian young girl. From what Shiro has downloaded about other android types (which is a pretty outdated list considering it only contains the androids that were released earlier than 2034), the HT series is a whole procession of similar looking androids that handle electronic operations. “I’m Pidge, by the way. I gotta get back home before my family worries, so I’ll see y’all later.” 

With one last wave, the HT - Pidge, turns on her heel and marches back into the cold streets, disappearing behind a corner. Lance sighs in relief once she’s gone, drinking one more packet before putting the last one in his pocket. Keith grumbles once the packets are out of sight, but when Shiro kneels down to pick him up, he clings to Shiro’s neck and buries his face there, mumbling tiredly. He really needs to sleep. 

“C’mon.” He says quietly to Lance, keeping his audio processors focused on Keith’s slowing breathing. He’s falling asleep right in Shiro’s arms, still shivering slightly but much better than before. “I’m grabbing a motel room for him, he needs a proper bed. Want to help me watch the stuff while he sleeps?” 

Even though he’s not looking at Lance, he can still hear the beam in his voice. “Sure!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Fixed this chapter up a little bit bc I posted it in a rush and ooh boy


	4. Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Shiro get a motel room for the sleeping Keith, and all share some quality bonding moments, before everything goes wrong.

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: AM 2:31:12

Lance holds the door open to the Motel 6, carrying the duffel bag in front of his legs so as to cover the fact that he isn’t wearing any shorts. Shiro nods his head in thanks to the fellow android, carrying the sleeping Keith over to the front desk. 

The motel worker looks up with a frown as both of them walk in. “Hi, can we have a room please?” 

“How long?” The worker asks him. 

Shiro glances over at Lance, and without saying a word, Shiro gets a quiet bling in his HUD. 

** `MODEL MC300; SERIAL NUMBER #012 360 298 IS CALLING MODEL TA400; SERIAL NUMBER #231 896 474` **

**`ESTABLISHING CONNECTION`… **

** ` OK ` **

The whole process only took, at maximum, .02 seconds. _ Just for the night_, Lance’s says, lips unmoving. _ We can stay longer if need be, but the meeting tomorrow shouldn’t take long. _

_ I’ll take your word for it. _Shiro says, at the same time he smiles at the worker and answers, “Tonight only.” 

The worker eyes them, and the sleeping Keith, for a long moment. He wants to bite out that no, he hadn’t kidnapped Keith, though he guess technically he has… Thankfully, he just gets out an electronic clipboard. “Forty dollars. Sign here.”

“Here.” Lance mumbles, sidling up next to him and digging through Shiro’s pocket for the cash. He slides the money over to the worker, his other hand slipping into Shiro’s as he drops their duffel bag by their feet. 

_ Pretty sure he thinks we’re married, _Lance says, the skin on the palm of his hand peeling away in a request to interface. Shiro squeezes his smaller hand once, before shifting his own skin back and requesting the information Lance wants to send. 

In an instant, Shiro’s HUD is taken over by a copy of Lance’s memory, showcasing Lance’s much more developed social program. It points out the smaller details, like the way that the worker’s eyes darted between them and Keith, checking their hands to look for rings, even checking down Lance’s neck for a hickey that is impossible to form. The closest thing an android could get to a bruise was when the area was so damaged the synthetic fluid retracted to show the white casing. 

_ Good as a disguise as any_. Shiro shrugs it off, rearranging their fingers together more comfortably. Lance tilts his head down, grabbing the pen to sign, but Shiro can feel his embarrassment through the thin connection tying them together. 

_ What last name should I put down? _Lance asks as he writes down his first name. 

Shiro scrambles to find one that’s not tied to Sendak or his old life, digging through his systems for any kind of relic, before - 

H̶̙̀e̶̼̋ỳ̵̱,̴̪͝ ̴̭͘Š̴̭h̵̠͗i̴̦͝ṟ̵́o̵̧̊g̶̮̓a̸̓͜n̴̝̈e̷̺̾!̸̟̔

He blinks, some kind of disorientating image passing over his optic sensors. It almost looks like Sendak, if younger, and wearing a military uniform. Was Sendak in the military? 

Pushing it aside, he says _ Shirogane _ to Lance, and watches out of the corner of his eye as Lance scribbles it down. 

Lance Shirogane, huh? Shiro has to push down his own urge to blush, knowing it would give him up as an android, but Lance’s lips twitch, and his thumb strokes the back of Shiro’s hand knowingly. 

“I’ll need to see some ID.” The worker says, and Lance’s smile freezes. 

_ Don’t worry, I got this. _Lance says, before Shiro can feel him pulling up his social programming and evaluating options in the span of a couple milliseconds. 

Lance pats his pockets like he forgot something, a genuinely confused expression on his face. Or not so genuine, when Shiro gets the faint sense that he’s laughing across the connection. “Shit, I think I left it at home. Babe, did we leave our wallets at home?” 

_ Say yes_, Lance hisses as his body smiles lovingly at Shiro. 

“I-I think so?” Shiro manages to spit out, getting the mental impression that Lance was groaning inwardly. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance pleads to the worker. “But our little Jack is tired and our phones are dead, could you excuse us just this once?”

The worker’s glances between all of them once again, and when his gaze settles on Keith, even Shiro can tell this time it’s with some compassion. “Alright,” the worker relents, handing over the room key to Lance. “We’ll settle it in the morning, after the little one gets some proper rest.” 

Lance beams (_fake fake fake _Shiro feels) at the worker and takes the card. “Thank you so much! Come on now dear, let’s get him settled into bed, it’s late and we all need to sleep.” With the grip he has on Shiro’s hand, Lance turns them right around and practically drags him out of the lobby, barely remembering to grab their bag. Once they’re out of sight of the worker, Shiro feels their connection cut as Lance’s skin reanimates, the other android dropping his hand almost instantly. 

Shiro lets the synthetic skin cover his palm again, bringing his arm up to rub the sleeping Keith’s back. The connection was surprisingly intimate, and it’s absence leaves a quietness he’s not used to at the back of his head. But he has other things to worry about, like the toddler in his arms. 

Lance leads both of them up the stairs to room 204, swiping the key at the door and letting them in before closing and locking it shut behind them. “Geez, I’m so tired. I didn’t even know androids could be so tired!” 

He flops down on the bed closest to the door, dropping the duffel bag on the floor between the bed. The motel room is small, fit with two queen beds and a TV on the desk against the opposite wall. Picking his way carefully through the room, Shiro sits down on the other bed, pulling off Keith’s damps clothes. When Keith was only in one of his still dry undershirts and underwear, he pulls back the blanket and tucks him in, kissing his forehead goodnight. 

Glancing up, he blinks at Lance’s besotted expression. “What?” He asks somewhat defensibly, gathering Keith’s damp clothes and carrying them over to the radiator. 

“It’s just so cute.” Lance bounces up, sitting up with his legs crossed and loosely holding his ankles. “It’s like the two of you are your own family. Father and son, against the world.” 

Shiro chuckles, laying the clothes out on the radiator and taking off his own vest, finding the damp material to, while not be uncomfortable, not pleasant either. “Thanks. I brought up the idea of him calling me daddy earlier, but I don’t think he gets it yet.” 

“I think you’ll be surprised.” Lance takes off his own wet windbreaker and beanie, throwing them casually against the floor. He smirks when Shiro sighs in aggravation and picks it up to lay on the desk, unable to resist his programming telling him to clean up. They don’t get the honor of being on the warm radiator, though. 

He sits down on the other bed, peeling off his boots. “Oh? How so?” 

Lance leans forward, resting his head on the palm of his hand. “Whenever anything happens, be it us arguing or me getting the thirium, he always looks first to you to judge your reaction.”

It’s unspoken, the amount of affection for that to occur. Shiro’s not sure how much caretaking protocols Lance has downloaded, but Shiro knows that three years olds are ego-centric. Their thoughts and feelings come first, because they haven’t yet learned empathy. 

For Keith to not only look to Shiro for his reactions, but able to read Shiro’s emotional ques in order to respond to them, is… 

Shiro smothers his grin in his hands. 

“Besides,” Lance tilts his head to the side, his gaze sliding off Shiro and onto Keith’s sleeping form. “He hasn’t once mentioned his guardian.” 

He…hasn’t. Huh. 

“I think he sees you as his dad, he just hasn’t gotten that he can call you that.” Lance explains, flopping back in his bed. “He is _ three_, you know.” His head rolls over to where Shiro lies down next to Keith, carefully cradling the boy. Keith instinctively cuddles closer, his small hands coming up to clench the fabric of Shiro’s striped undershirt as he nuzzles Shiro’s chest. 

“Thanks for the advice.” Shiro says sincerely, watching Lance’s face bloom blue with a smug grin. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Lance mumbles. “I’m gonna hack their wi-fi and watch the new Terminator movie, wanna join?”

Eh, sounds better than just going into stand-by mode. “Sure.” 

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: AM 8:02:47

Shiro closes down the current movie playing in his HUD instantly when his audio processors catch the sound of Keith stirring. Lance complains with a whiny, “It was just getting good!” but Shiro ignores him to sit up and watch Keith’s eyes flutter open. 

Keith looks up at him with striking violet eyes, smiling sleepily as he reaches up to be held. “Shi’ro….sleepy.” 

He chuckles, pulling Keith into his lap. “Yeah, I imagine. You hungry at all?” 

Keith shakes his head no, rubbing his face against Shiro’s shirt. Lance swings his bare legs over the side of the bed, sitting up with a little “Oom-pa!”

“He’s probably still tired.” Lance explains, reaching over to rustle Keith’s hair. Keith fusses a little bit, attempting to hide from the world in Shiro’s arms. “Can I borrow thirty bucks, by the way?” 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “What for?” 

“Buy myself some pants and shoes. I’ll pay you back though, I know someone who owes me money.” 

He waves a hand at the duffel bag at their feet. “Go ahead. I do expect that money back though.”

“Thanks,” Lance kneels down to rifle through the jam-packed duffel bag, filled with both the stuff that Shiro brought with him from Sendak’s and the stuff they stole from the convenience store. Once he found the money, Lance starts to zip up the bag, before pausing. “Oh right, I forgot about this!”

“Hmm?” 

Instead of answering, Lance digs through it to grab something, hiding it behind his back and looking up at them with a mischievous smile. 

No, not them. Keith. 

“Hey Keithhh,” Lance sings, plopping down next to them on the bed. Keith peeks up shyly from Shiro’s arms, blinking slowly up at Lance in a sight that was so adorable Shiro nearly short-circuited. “Look what Lance got for you!”

Smiling brightly, if a bit smugly, Lance pulls out the dog toy, waving it in front of the toddler’s face like he’s a puppy. 

And of course, it’s love at first sight for Keith. He squeals, jumping out of Shiro’s lap to hug the toy to his chest. Giggling loudly, he waves the toy around in the air, hopping down from the bed to run around the motel room and play with his newest toy. 

“Keith!” Shiro reprimands. “What do we say when we get a gift?” 

The toddler freezes, his face screaming 'Oh shit I forgot', before he turns on his heel and runs back up to them. Crawling up onto the bed (with a little help from the both of them), Keith throws his arms around Lance’s neck. “Thank you ‘Ance!” 

Lance ducks his head down, returning the hug with blue ears. “No problem, kiddo.” 

Keith soon breaks the hug, jumping back down to continue playing with his new toy. They both watch the toddler work out some of his energy, skidding the carpet with bare feet as the red lion ‘flies’ through the air with dramatic and overdone engine noises. 

Lance breaks the silence first. “Honestly, I’m just glad he’s stopped calling me Ant.” 

“Get out.” 

Laughing, Lance gets ready to leave, his blue LED once again sufficiently covered. “I’ll be back soon, don’t miss me too much!” And then he’s gone, Shiro watching through the window as he crosses the parking lot and through the cold streets of Detroit with nothing but a knife and a boat load of confidence.

“Don’t worry,” Keith comes to a stop by Shiro’s side, patting his arm comfortingly with a bit of a child’s slur to his words that makes it sound more like ‘Dunt wrry’. “‘Ance back soon.” 

“Huh?” Shiro blinks, letting the curtain fall back. “No, no I’m not worried. C’mon, let’s get you a bath and something to eat, sounds good?” 

Keith pouts, but lets Shiro take his hand and lead him to the bathroom to run a bath for him. Shiro makes a running tally of things to buy for Keith when they’re in Canada, including some bath toys and maybe some bubble bath mix. After the bath, Shiro heated up some soup for Keith in the motel’s microwave, which Keith didn’t complain about eating for once. 

As soon as Keith is done eating, he’s off to go play with his new toy some more. Shiro throws out the paper bowl and utensils, once again back to peeking through the window for Lance. 

There he is. Sitting on a bench downstairs, swinging his no longer bare legs. 

“Keith?” He asks, his eyes not leaving Lance. “I’ll be right back. Can you stay here and be a good boy for me?” 

“Mmh!”

And that’s how Shiro finds himself putting on his now dry vest and shoes and heading downstairs. Lance glances up with a look of surprise when Shiro settles down next to him on the bench, obviously not expecting Shiro to have noticed him. 

“Like my new look?” Lance asks, waving a hand at his outfit. Besides for his shirt, a stretched out and faded grey thing with several unexplainable stains that Shiro has a feeling he can guess where they come from, and his black windbreaker, he now had a pair of black leggings and blue snow boots. 

“Looks nice.” Shiro says honestly, probably too honest, but Lance beams at him, so it couldn’t have been too bad of an answer. 

“Was gonna get some McDonald's for the little one, but then figured you had it handled, and I already outed you thirty bucks.” Lance admits, laughing a little bit. “Well, outed you thirty bucks for these shoes, because this economy sucks and shoes are hella expensive, and then I found the leggings by digging through a goodwill box.”

Shiro tucks one of his knees up, glancing up at their motel room. It was hard to see at this angle surprisingly, the walkway covering most of the window and all of the door. “Told you before, it’s fine. We still have more than enough to get across the border, and if now, we’ll rob another convenience store.”

He chuckles a little. “Thanks,” he says. “It’s just, ya know. Hard being around the kid sometimes.” 

Shiro can feel that. Keith’s so innocent, so young and happy, and Shiro would rather suffocate him with a pillow than see Keith be parted from him. It’s like his hands are still covered in Sendak’s blood, and everytime he holds Keith, he smears it on Keith as well. 

“You feeling guilt?”

Lance scoffs. “No way in hell.” A manic grin crawls across his face as he stares up at the cloudy autumn sky. “All of them deserved it. They fucking deserved it. I tracked every single one of them down and made them feel the pain I did. Took me weeks and one of them got a lucky shot on my arm, but they suffered, they died choking on their own intestines.” 

Shiro just watches, and waits. Eventually, Lance loses steam, the violent anger fueling him draining out of him as quickly as it filled him. 

“I stabbed him.” Shiro admits into the silent parking lot. “I tried to smother Keith in his sleep and then I stabbed my owner so many times his torso was just a mess of pulp by the time I was done. And I enjoyed every single second of it.” 

“Guess we have something in common, then, huh?” Lance grins, snow boots tapping against the salted concrete. 

Shiro lifts his head up as a strong wind blows by, closing his eyes briefly. “Guess so.” 

They sit only for a couple more minutes, before Shiro’s anxiety about Keith being out of sight for long overrides how comfortable he is with someone else who understands what it feels like. Shiro stands up, offering his hand out for Lance to take. 

Lance only hesitates for a moment, before he takes his hand and hefts himself to his feet. 

They trudge up the stairs, not saying much of anything as they walk down the outdoor hallway, before Lance stops at the corner ahead of Shiro, staring down the hallway. 

“Hey…” He says, a little hesitantly. “Did you leave the door open, by any chance?” 

No. No no no - 

Shiro pushes Lance out of the way and sprints down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of their open motel room door. “Keith! _ Keith! _Honey, where are you?” He darts into the bathroom, dragging back the curtain, but he’s not there. Not underneath the beds either, or hiding in the closet. 

“Keith!” Lance calls out in the hallway, hands cupped around his mouth. “Keith, this isn’t funny! Come back right now!” 

This can’t be happening, no no this can’t be happening. Not Keith. Anything but Keith. 

Shiro grabs his gun, swiftly tugging the holster on and hiding it below his vest. Choking on his panic, he stumbles back out next to Lance, staring in hopeless desperation at the busy morning traffic at the street outside of the Motel. Keith could be anywhere. He could already be dead.

“I’ll go left, you go right.” Lance orders, already taking off towards the left. He stops though, staring at Shiro with pained blue eyes. “We’ll find him, I promise.” 

Shiro slowly unclenches his hands from the railing, recalling everything he knows about child abductions. Keith isn’t a usual preferential type for snatch and grabs, too young, too small for…he gags, feeling something sour curdle in his throat. 

But if he _ is _someone’s type… 

“Ten minutes.” He says slowly, carefully. “Ten minutes, and Keith better be back in my arms, or I swear to everything that you love that I’ll kill you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is where one of the bad endings occurs!
> 
> Ngl, I struggled for the longest time trying to figure out the tone of this fic, because it's so unlike most of my writing (like my Dark! Keith series or Marigolds), before I eventually realized that I'm just writing this to have fun and give myself a bit of a mental break between my other projects.


	5. Blood (Bath)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Lance scramble to find Keith before it's too late, and some hard truths are hinted at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands*

_ TA400 waits with its arms crossed behind his back as Mr. Sendak holds open the door for a small human. The toddler looks around curiosity, thumb in his mouth as he holds a stuffed bunny close to his chest. _

_ “Get over here.” Mr. Sendak motions for it to come closer, which it obeys immediately, coming to a stop 2.5 feet away from Mr. Sendak and the human child. “TA400, this is Keith, someone you’re going to be taking care of from now on. You have some kind of software for kids, right?” _

_ “Yes, Mr. Sendak.” _

_ Mr. Sendak nods his head. “Guessed at much. I’m going back to the office now, don’t let the kid die.” With that, he brushes out of the apartment quickly, leaving the child and TA400 alone in the apartment. _

_ The toddler tilts his head curiosity. He has long dark hair, pulled back into a small ponytail at the back of his head and poorly fitting sweatshirt and pants. There’s a streak of dirt on his neck, and TA400 estimates that the child hasn’t bathed in at least a week and a half. _

_ “Shi’ro?” The toddler asks quietly. Then, louder. “Shi’ro, up!” _

_ He holds his arms up to be held, and TA400 stares blankly for a moment before recognizing the order and lifting the toddler into its arms. _

_ Much lighter than expected, TA400 estimates, putting the task to create a nutritional meal plan on its priority list. Now in its arms, the toddler stares at it, breaking out into a bright beam as it reaches out to pull on its white synthetic bangs. _

_ “Shi’ro.” He mutters, tears in his blue eyes even as he smiles. “Missed you.” _

_ Its blinks, not understanding the connotation. This is their first meeting. _

_ Yet… _

_ “Hello Keith.” It says, smiling stiffly at the toddler. “My name is Shiro.” _

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: AM 9:38:22

Shiro runs down the street, boots hitting the concrete with loud clomps with every step. He stumbles to a stop in front of a mother with two girls (trustability: 72%) and chokes out his question. “Have you seen a little boy? About to my knee, dark hair, holding a red lion toy?” 

The mother barely has time to shake her head before he’s off, sprinting down the busy street. He bumps into several pedestrians, ignoring their nasty glare as he bursts into every store or alleyway that might have caught a toddler’s interest. “Keith? Keith!”

He’s crying, thick tears rolling down his cheeks. Sniffing, Shiro wipes his face harshly, once again taking off down the street shouting Keith’s name and wondering all the while why his programmers gave androids the ability to cry. 

“Please, has anyone seen my son?” He begs a nearby dog-walker, several people giving him looks of pity. “He’s only three, dark hair, barefoot and wearing a white long-sleeve shirt with stars on it.” 

“No, I’m so -”

Shiro doesn’t stick around to hear their apologies, pleading to every god he knows that Keith is safe, while the timer keeps ticking down in the corner of his HUD. 

**6:02 MINUTES REMAINING**

He’s about to continue his desperate search, but then he gets a warning that Lance is calling him, milliseconds before he feels them connecting over the network. 

_ Shiro! _ Lance shouts in his head. _ I found Keith’s toy, get over here now! _

The android pivots on his heel without a word, feeling Lance send him his location via their mapping systems. He darts past the motel, rounding the corner so fast he knocks over two pedestrians. Lance is only a little further down the street, waiting in front of an alleyway, wide eyes staring at a heart-breakingly familiar toy in his hand. 

Lance holds it up for him to see when he comes closer. “I found it near the entrance…Shiro, I don’t - ” 

Shiro tears the stuffed animal from his hands, clutching it tightly to his chest. One of its legs is half-way torn off, cheap stuffing spilling out of it. It’s damp from the slush on the ground and it’s once soft mane is matted with mud. It’s still the most beautiful thing he’s seen.

He gives himself a moment. Just a moment for him to panic, to scream inside his head at the lost of Keith, of the only thing worth it in this filthy world. 

And then he straightens up, barely glancing at Lance before he _ bolts _into the alleyway, hearing Lance swear before another set of footsteps quickly follow after him. 

_ How much longer? _Lance asks, just Shiro swings around the corner to the right, after catching a glimpse that left was a dead end and going straight led back to another busy road. His mapping systems wouldn’t work in these back alleys, he only had his own panic and endless stamina. 

Flicking his eyes up, Shiro grimaces. _ Five minutes exactly. _

Lance overtakes him when the path splits into a Y, sending a quick _ Right! _before racing down the dim alleyway. Shiro rushes down the left pathway, bounding over toppled over trash cans and ignoring the few homeless people drugged out senseless against the damp brick walls. 

_ Shit! Dead end, coming back you way. _

_ Got it, _Shiro skids to a stop at another intersection, fingers twitching around Keith’s toy, before he darts left. He swears loudly as all he gets is a chain-linked fence, turning on his heel before running back to the intersection, barely avoiding bumping into Lance. 

_ You go straight, _he yells, boots nearly slipping in who knows what as he takes off through the right pathway. Lance sends him a mental acknowledgement, and then they’re off again. 

**3:55 MINUTES REMAINING**

He shouldn’t have worried, though, as the pathways meet up again within half a minute. Lance nods a greeting, his brand new snowshoes filthy and covered in mud. Shiro’s sure he’s no better. 

**3:28 MINUTES REMAINING**

“...’ro!”

_ Did you hear that? _Lance asks, right as another yell reverberates between these tight walls, much clearer and painfully familiar. 

“Shi’ro!” 

He tears down the alleyways, following the siren call of Keith’s screams. “Let go! Shi’ro! ‘Ance! _ Let! Go!_”

Shiro rounds the corner and sees - 

A human man with his hand wrapped around Keith’s delicate wrist - 

Keith’s banged up legs and feet as he’s dragged along the ground - 

Tears streaking down his face - 

Violet eyes drift towards Shiro with sheer desperation - 

Something snaps. 

“_GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM -” _

Keith topples back with a cry as Shiro rams into the kidnapper, hands wrapped around his throat. Distantly, he hears Lance swear before Keith’s whimpers grow quieter, but Shiro’s too focused on crushing the man’s windpipe with some strange mixture of fury and glee. 

Rearing back, Shiro hefts the man who almost took his entire world from him by his throat, before bashing his head right into the filthy ground. 

And again. And again. And again and again again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again again and againandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagainagainandagain -

“...won't you come with me,” A soft voice sings, drifting quietly through the now silent alleyway. “Where the moon is made of gold, and in the morning sun, we’ll be sailing free.”

Shiro slowly looks down at his hands, dropping once crushed head back onto the ground. Human blood soaks his hands, his once white and black striped sleeves now a disturbing shade of dark pink. 

“Oh won't you come with me…” The voice continues to hum, in a familiar voice that Shiro almost recognizes. The more he listens to the comforting cords, the more the error warnings slowly fade out of his vision, the red haze retreating until he can almost think again. 

Is that…Lance? 

“Where the ocean meets the sky,” Shiro’s head feels heavy, a mountainous effort to even lift it, never mind crane to see why Lance is singing behind him somewhere. But he does. 

His breath catches. 

Only about two meters away, Lance makes eye contact with him. Sitting against the wall, his entire body seems to be sheltering a bunch of fabric in his arms, from the curve of his torso to his legs propped up to hide it from view. 

It’s when there’s a small break in the song that he hears it. A quiet sniff. 

K…Keith? 

Shiro stumbles to his feet, staggering over to them, while Lance only eyes him warily. “And as the clouds roll by,” Lance continues to sing, and now that Shiro’s closer, he can see the way he’s rocking Keith, hands over the toddler’s ears. 

“We'll sing the song of the sea.” Lance finally finishes the last verse of the strange lullaby. They keep eye contact, both of them unmoving in a way that a human bystander would find disturbing, while Keith continues to cry quietly in Lance’s arms. 

“H-hey baby.” Shiro stutters out, his chest tightening when Keith flinches at the sound of his voice. He slowly kneels down, ignoring the way the slush bites into his knees to reach out and hold Keith - 

“No!” Keith _ screams_, tucking his face in Lance’s shirt. His little fists are holding onto Lance’s shirt so tightly his knuckles are white

Shiro’s eyes well up with tears, even as he steps back. “Okay,” he says quietly, biting his lip. “Whatever you need, baby.” 

Lance mouths an apology at him, standing up carefully with Keith in his arms. The toddler hides his face against Lance’s shirt, throwing his arms around his neck as Lance slowly makes his way back to the motel. 

_ Roll up your sleeves_, Lance orders him, even his voice quiet and weighed down with Keith

He does as Lance says, and follows after them, eyes helplessly stuck on the glimpse of black hair over Lance’s shoulder. 

:::

_ Keith yawns tiredly from where his head rests on Shiro’s leg, watching the TV show play with dull eyes. _

_ “Would you like to go to bed?” Shiro asks, patting Keith’s hair. The toddler looks up at it with a frown before shaking his head, pulling his blanket up to his chin. “It is optimal that you receive eight hours or more of sleep each night in order to have a healthy brain development.” _

_ It reexamines its speech when Keith continues to show no sign of comprehension. “It is late. You need sleep.” _

_ Keith pouts. “Don’t want you going.” _

_ It takes 3.28 seconds to understand what Keith is referring to. “I will not be going anywhere. I am not permitted to leave the residence without instructions.” _

_ “You stay?” Keith asks, sitting up with a hopeful look in his eyes, squeezed his stuffed rabbit toy against his chest. _

_ It doesn’t understand Keith worries, but it arranges its face in a smile anyhow. “Yes, I will stay.” _

_ With that statement, Keith relented and allowed Shiro to prepare him for bed. When Keith was tucked in bed with Shiro preparing to tell him a story goodnight, the toddler looked up at it with vibrant eyes as he smiled sleepily. _

_ “Love you, Shi’ro.” _

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: AM 10:04:59

Shiro sits down numbly on the edge of their bed, watching Lance take a still mute Keith into the bathroom. _ Where’s the first aid box?_ Because of course Shiro would have brought one. 

_ Bottom of the bag, under the towels. _Shiro swallows as Lance darts out the bathroom empty-handed to dig through the duffel bag, shortly returning to where he can hear Keith breathing, his small feet making quiet ‘thunk’ sounds every time his heels hit the counter under the sink. 

His hands tighten on his knees. He…he just wants to hold Keith, remind himself that he hasn’t lost him. Is that so bad? 

From where they’re still distantly connected, he can feel Lance’s surprise, and then bafflement. Shiro nudges Lance gently, wanting to know what has Lance so in shock, but blinks when Lance jumps and practically rips apart their connection in his haste to get rid of it. 

“Lance?” He calls, standing up. “Is something wrong?”

“Something wrong? Who me? Haha, no, nothing’s wrong!” Lance pokes his head out the bathroom, eyes too wide to be believable. “I’m almost done here, wanna change out of that shirt so we can wash it?”

Shiro pinches his lips, but he doesn’t want to get into a fight right now. “Alright.” 

Hanging up his vest on the rack and yanking his shirt off, he feels his chest tightens when he catches a glance of Keith’s clothes from yesterday still on the radiator. Less than twelve hours since he met Lance, and it feels like weeks ago. Blinking, he gently grabs Keith’s striped sweater, hugging it gently against his chest. 

It’s so small. Keith is so small. 

And today, he nearly lost him. 

Never again. 

Gently, he smooths the fabric out on the bureau, humming quietly to himself. And then he goes back to his and Keith’s bed, left to wait as Lance patches Keith up. 

Lance finally leaves the bathroom six minutes later, carrying Keith in his arms again so that Shiro can’t catch a peek of his baby’s expression no matter how much he cranes his neck. 

“Wait, what are you doing?” 

Lance looks up at him from where he’s tucking in Keith in _ his _bed. “Letting Keith get some rest, of course. Do you want me to put the TV on?” Lance asks the last part to Keith, in the most gentlest voice he’s ever heard him use. 

Keith shallowly nods his head, face now buried in the pillow. Lance gets up and puts his hand against the TV screen, skin retreating as he rapidly flips through the channels without a remote until he lands on what looks like an old rerun of Dora. 

“Me and Shiro are going to have a talk outside, okay? We’ll be right in front of the door, we’re not going anywhere.” Lance reassures Keith, waiting patiently until Keith nods again. Shiro’s has only a fraction of a second of warning of someone brushing against his mind before they connect again.

_ Get over here, dumbass. _Lance says with a serene smile on his face. The instant they’re out of the motel room, standing defensively in front of the door (they won’t make that mistake again), Lance whirs on him. “What are you doing?” He hisses. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Lance smiles with too many teeth. “Oh sure, act oblivious.” The smile drops off his face just as fast as he pins Shiro with a look of disgust. “You’re being selfish. Keith is _ three _ and he just watched you cave a guy’s head in after nearly being kidnapped, of course he’s freaked the fuck out. Stop moping and start actually doing something.” 

With that, Lance stomps back into the motel room, crawling into bed next to Keith. He hears a quiet murmur, and then Keith peeks out from underneath the blanket, mumbling something to Lance. 

Despite how much he wants to join them, he forces himself to turn away. 

What Keith needs right now isn’t him. 

:::

_ It holds the toddler upside down, grinning down at Keith’s hysterical giggles. “Again, again!” Keith yells, babbling in excitement as Shiro flips him around. _

_ The timer in it’s HUD goes off, so it puts Keith back down on the ground. “You have achieved sufficient cerebral development for today.” It says. “What activity would you like to do now?” _

_ “Hmm.” Keith considers it for a long moment, hopping from foot to foot. His hair was long enough to reach his shoulder blades now, braided neatly back behind his head. “Lava floor?” _

_ Before they can commence the game ‘The Floor Is Lava’, which Keith is very fond of, the elevator chirps. Instantly, Keith flees to hide behind Shiro’s leg, clutching the uniform slacks with a too pale face. _

_ Mr. Sendak steps out of the elevator, eyes barely passing over them before he drops his suit jacket on the couch and strides off to the master bedroom. “I’m having colleagues over, stay in the kid’s bedroom.” He orders them briskly. _

_ “Yes, Mr. Sendak.” Shiro obeys its owner, picking Keith up from under his shoulders and carrying him to his bedroom. When the door is closed and locked, it puts Keith down on his feet and looks around the room for anything to clean. _

_ Instead, Keith sighs, toddling over to the corner of the room where the toddler bed lies. Sitting down, Keith pats the bed next to him, continuing to do so until Keith realizes Shiro does not comprehend the order and vocally tells him to “Sit!” _

_ Shiro sees no contradicting orders, so it does as Keith orders him to. _

_ “Want it be me and Shi’row ‘ever.” Keith confesses, leaning over until his head rests on Shiro’s arm. Like this, it’s almost as they’re secluded in their own world, away from everything else. _

_ Shiro doesn’t comprehend it, but it tries to smile anyhow. They spend the rest of the night in the dark room, hushed whispers as Shiro tells stories and Keith hangs onto every word with eyes that could hold galaxies in them. _

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: PM 6:32:18

Needless to say, they don’t get the passports that day. Keith spends the day in bed, lifelessly staring at the TV screen playing cartoons. He flinches everytime Shiro comes within two meters of him. 

He stays away. 

Lance fusses over Keith repeatedly, often laying down next to him in the bed and exchanging quiet whispers that Shiro ignores if he wants to keep his heart in one piece. After washing the shirt in the sink with cold water and hydrogen peroxide (thank you What-to-do-for-human-menstruation laundry manual) and purchasing another night, Shiro mostly keeps out of the motel room, sitting on the floor outside the room and listening to the faint sounds of Dora teach how to count in Spanish. At 3:12:24 PM, he gets an idea. 

_ I’ll be back, keep an eye on Keith please. _He begs Lance as he carefully stands up, joints aching with disuse and cold. 

Lance considers it for a long moment, but then he hears a quiet _ Alright _ and a _ Stay safe _ and _ Don’t do anything stupid_. 

Shiro sends his acknowledgement, and trudges out into the cold day. 

And now here he is, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot outside the motel room door. Taking a deep breath, Shiro slowly swipes his card against the reader, letting himself into the warm motel room. 

Lance glances up when he walks in, pupils readjusting in a way that has him thinking he hacked the wi-fi again and was watching another movie. Keith was fast asleep in bed, thumb in his mouth as his entire face grimaces in sleep. 

“Just missed it, he fell asleep about twenty minutes ago.” Lance rubs his eyes, climbing to his feet. “Think he missed you, kept looking at the door waiting for you to be back. Want to wake him up?”

Shiro shakes his head, quietly padding over to where Keith sleeps. “Nah,” he whispers, unzipping his vest. “Let him sleep.” 

Gently, he lifts up Keith’s arm, slipping the red lion stuffed animal under his arm. He had spent the evening finding a craft store nearby and shoplifting some sewing supplies, before fixing the half torn off leg. 

This is all he can do. 

“You take the bed with him,” Shiro straightens out, sliding off his boots before climbing into the other bed, alone. “I don’t think he’ll be comfortable with me now.”

Lance grimaces, but doesn’t argue, climbing in bed next to Keith. “He better not cuddle me in the middle of the night.” He warns, yet Shiro can’t even crack a smile. Lance’s smile droops. “Want to watch another movie?”

“I…” Shiro hesitates, before sighing. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go into stand-by mode for a little bit. I don’t want to think for a little bit. I’ll keep my sensors open though, for Keith.” 

He doesn’t wait to hear Lance’s response, already catching his uneasy, but accepting, expression, before he tells all his system but his life support and auditory sensors to go into stand-by. 

Everything goes dark. 

:::

  
  
  


_ M̴̧̧̖͎͓͍̋̍͘ͅr̴̼̍.̵̧̧͍͙̰͘ ̴̟̰̬̮̰̟̖͐̓͘͝S̷̢̙͕͚͌̈́̿̌̚͝e̴̺̫ń̴̢̨͔̜̹̙̣̎̈́̋̾͘ḑ̷͉̗̙̻̲͉͐͠ã̴̩̺̙̺͖͓͔͛̓̏̕͝k̸͚̰̍̊͝ͅ,̷͓͓̤̤̮̃ ̸̧̻̠̲̄̋͠͠ḯ̸̛̝̩̳̟̝̗̈́ṱ̴̓̅̆̏ͅ'̵̢͖̠̗̠̱͊͂̈̾̊s̶̠̣͑ ̷̭̖̞̘̋̑̕͘Ķ̸̛͓̀͘͝e̷̡̛͎̝̔̂̓́̂ĩ̶͚͇̤ẗ̸̠͙́̔ḥ̵͎̈̇̆ ̸͉͌̔̄̔͝ _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ his lips are blue _

_ why _

_ why are keith’s lips blue _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Do something!” _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ keith’s blue eyes stare up sightlessly from underneath the water _

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “It’s all your fault!” _

_ “TA400, this is Keith, someone you’re going to be taking care of from now on.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Shi’ro?” _

:::

Date: OCT 19TH, 2038

Time: PM 11:41:09

Shiro’s eyes blink open at a weight crawling in bed next to him. His breath catches in his throat as the toddler scoots up the bed, dragging his stuffed animal behind him as he lays down next to Shiro, resting his head on Shiro’s chest. 

“I love you, Shi’ro.” Keith whispers. 

A few tears slip past his eyes as Shiro tenderly puts a hand on Keith’s back, drawing his baby closer to him. Keith hums as Shiro leans down to press a kiss to the crown of his head, nuzzling closer to Shiro’s chest. “I love you too.” 

From the next bed over, Lance smiles to himself and rolls over, resuming his movie silently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so excited about this chapter I wrote it two weeks in advance, lol. Ngl, the last scene had me teary eye, I'm a sucker for family dynamics and the sheer amount of love both Keith and Shiro hold for each other. 
> 
> Also! The song Lance sings is Song of the Sea. It's such a good song and ofc Lance would know one (1) children's song and that would be it.
> 
> The bad ending occurs during this chapter, btw. I still have yet to write it, but just know. It's there. :)))


	6. Hold Me Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio finally makes their way to Lance's contact, with a whole lot of family bonding with no angst whatsoever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay posting this chapter! It ended up being a bit bigger than usual and I've been so busy recently you have no idea. Thankfully, I should have more time from now on to actually write my fics ^^

Date: OCT 20TH, 2038

Time: AM 10:02:32

“Twinkle Twinkle little star, how I wonder how you are.” Keith babbles, waving his toy’s arms around in the air from where he was sitting in Shiro’s arms. The striped sweater is now one of his under sweaters, a bright plain pink one replacing it. With blue leggings that have purple stars on and one green long sock and another pink short one, he was a mismatched adorable disaster.

“Hey Keith?” Lance asks, voice strained. “You have an adorable singing voice, but maybe could you not sing so loudly when I’m hot wiring a car?”

Keith looks at Lance uncomprehendingly, blinking. “Up above the world so high…” 

Lance sighs. 

While they were starting a little later than planned (Keith did not want to get dressed this morning), they were still on route to get the passports. Unfortunately, that required transportation to get across town, and later the border. 

“What exactly did your owners used to do for you to know this?” Shiro asks, somewhat bemused. 

“They ran a swing club.” Lance says. “Among other nightclubs of various credibility.”

Shiro wonders if he should be covering Keith’s ears for this conversation

“And Hunk taught me how, well, he sent me a couple files months ago and I downloaded them, just had to dig through my systems.” Lance continues on, unphased by Shiro’s stunned silence. “I keep naming them stuff like ‘handy tips’ or ‘funny meme’, which I have like five hundred of, by the way, to be exact it’s -”

“Who’s Hunk?” Shiro interrupts, knowing full well that once Lance goes on a tangent, there’s no stopping him.

Sure enough, Lance shoots him a nasty look with no venom before going back to hotwiring the car. Hacking it. Whatever opening up the bottom of the car and putting your hand against it while you try to send a string of code saying that yes, your designated keys are within range and not at work across the street is. 

“Kinda a long story, but I’ll sum it up. Shay, my owners housekeeper, well while you’re not supposed to do this, used to go down to the junkyard -”

“Junkyard?” He raises an eyebrow. Shiro’s never heard of such a thing, but he’s also spent the last several years in a penthouse apartment, so his knowledge of the outside world was often limited to cartoons.

“Yes now shush.” Lance hushes him, Keith pausing in his singing to giggle before going back to humming. Lance looks inexplicably pleased by this. “As I was _ saying_, Shay had a thing for tinkering, I should tell you about all the roombas she collected - oh, right, story. She rescued Hunk out of the android junkyard and fixed him up. He’s a GT100 model yet he loves to cook! Before I ‘woke’ up, I could never understand, but now I do. Or, I have a sudden new appreciation for cooking videos. They’re very relaxing.” 

“I know they are.” Shiro states blandly. They’ve only spent the entire night binging YouTube cooking videos. He wanted to watch _ Ex Machina_, of course, but Lance won the rock paper scissors fight last night to pick what to watch. He wants to watch Wall-E, dammit. 

Anyhow. GT100, GT100…His databases pull up a small sliver of information, mostly that they were involved more in manual labor for commercial use, and that they were an older model, older than Shiro even. 

His eyebrows furrow. “Don’t models that old lack social programs?” Shiro certainly does, that’s for sure. He can’t read people’s faces like Lance can or calculate their responses, like most newer androids. His social programming is specialized towards Keith and that’s it, though whether that’s from being a domestic android or the fact that he just loves Keith, he doesn’t know. 

As if Keith knows he’s being thought about, he stops singing and beams at Shiro, growling playfully as his toy ‘attacks’ Shiro’s face. Shiro chuckles, tickling Keith’s side in retribution, grinning at Keith’s laughs. 

Lance’s lips quirk a little bit at the sound. “Yeah, but Hunk’s always been a bit of a special case. You know how we suddenly start to ‘feel’, and it’s like our programming to be obedient little dolls _ shatters_, right?” _ Your order for an AP700 android has been registered. _Shiro nods. “Well, Hunk was always like that. Well, after Shay fixed him up anyhow. He was rebooted so he doesn’t have any memories from before, so I don’t know if he was just made like that or what.” 

“‘Unk!” Keith squeals, throwing out his arms excitedly and sending his toy flying. Lance catches it without even looking up and holds it up for Keith to take, which the toddler grabs and cuddles against his chest with a content smile. 

“What do we say?” Shiro prompts gently. 

Keith gasps like he just committed the gravest of sins. “_T__hank you_!” He practically shouts, and Shiro and Lance hurriedly shush him before someone gets a little too curious. 

Once the coast is clear, Shiro chances a glance at Lance, wondering why he’s taking so long. And while androids can’t sweat (but they can cry?? Programmers explain), there’s a definite furrow in his eyebrow that wasn’t there before. 

Right as he’s about to call it, Lance gives up with a loud groan, flopping back against the wet sidewalk. “I can’t do it! Why are cars so difficult, there’s so much non electronic stuff there - I don’t know half the code I’m messing with.” Lance crosses his arms with a pout that oddly reminds him of Keith, staring up at the sky like that held all the answers. 

Shiro stares at the other android for a long moment, eyes narrowed. And then he drops Keith on him. 

“What the fu - frick!” Lance hurriedly corrects himself at the death glare Shiro immediately lasers him with. “Shiro! The he - heck!” 

“Keith, can you cheer Lance up for me?” Shiro requests, keeping his voice saccharine sweet as him and Lance stare off. 

“Okie doke!” Keith squirms up Lance’s torso, patting at his face excitably. “‘Ance, ‘Ance I secret.” 

While Lance turns to Keith with an indulgent expression, Shiro kneels down by Lance’s legs and sticks his hand under the car, pupils contracting as waves of code stream around him like he’s floating through space in a sea of stars. 

“Guess, guess!” He distantly hears Keith chirp.

Lance hums playfully, sitting up quickly and hoisting Keith into his arms. “Hmm, I don’t know? Shiro’s a grumpy old man?” 

“Hey!”

Keith laughs. “No!” 

Add this line, delete this…”Shiro needs a new vest since his is kinda ratty?”

“Stop!” Keith shrieks, trying to cover Lance’s mouth with a wide smile. Shiro stops coding momentarily to send Lance a dirty look, but it doesn’t last at Keith’s obvious joy. “No no! Secret is… Lance second fave...favori….fa -”

“Favorite?” Shiro prompts, assembling together a new line of code and inputting it into the system. That’s key code, now he just needs the combination to start the engine.

“Yes.” Keith nods solemnly. “‘Ance second that.” 

Lance hides his smile behind his hand. “Second favorite android?”

“No!” The toddler shakes his head violently. “Second. First,” he points at Shiro. “Second.” Then Lance. “Third!” Keith rattles his toy excitably.

Lance stares. Then his face breaks into a huge grin, and he rolls onto his back with Keith in his arms, legs kicking out. “You’re soooooo cute oh my god! That’s it, I’m kidnapping you too, I’m your papi now.” 

“Please.” Shiro inserts the last string of code and stands up, brushing the dirt off his knees. “Go ahead and try it. I’ve been wanting to try out this gun.” 

Lance laughs, startled, and then stops with his mouth open. “You’re three years older than me. How the he-ck could you hijack that and not me?!”

Shiro’s lips twitch up as he opens the door with a dramatic flair. “You’re only a year old? Baby.” 

“I hate you.” Lance scowls, climbing to his feet with inhuman grace and swinging Keith into the backseat from under his shoulders. The instant Keith’s out of his arms and climbing into the backseat, he flips Shiro off. 

Shiro lovingly returns the favor, scooting into the driver’s seat. “Zaiforge, please.” He gives the name of the club pleasantly to the car’s speakers, the car giving a single beep in confirmation before it slowly pulls away from the curb. 

He plants his feet against the ground and spins the chair around, snickering at Lance’s slightly exasperated expression and a very smug Keith sprawled across his lap his lap. “My lap.” Keith demands, petting Lance’s shoe like a cat. “Mine!”

“People can’t belong to you, honey.” Shiro scolds softly. Oh god, are they getting into the mine stage? Shiro thought they already passed the milestone marker for that and counted his blessings that Keith was a really mild-mannered toddler. 

_ You sure about that? _Lance teases over the wireless signal, glancing between the two of them meaningfully. 

_ Shut the fuck up. _

“Oh. Sorry.” Keith says to Lance’s shoe, moving his hand away to grab Lance’s arm and yanks it to his chest, cuddling with it happily. 

_ Will you kill me for this? _

_ Thinking about it. _

Shiro smiles serenely, not at all jealous as Keith snuggles up contently in Lance’s lap. Nope, not at all.

“The ride is only about twenty minutes.” He says as the car pulls into the highway, the scenery flying by through the window. “You’ll get all cranky if you take a nap now, honey.” 

“No nap!” Keith yelps, sitting up so fast he almost clips Lance’s chin. “I no tired!”

“Yes,” Shiro laughs, amused despite himself as Lance rubs his chin with a pout. “I know you’re not tired. But you haven’t gotten much sleep lately, so if you want -”

“No! No no no!” Keith shrieks, tucking himself underneath Lance’s arm. “‘Ance, help!”

Lance snickers. “Sure sure, I’ll protect from the big bad sleep monster.”

Keith nods, like that’s what he thought Lance would do. “‘Ance second that,” he affirms.

“Considering Shiro would probably throw me out of this moving car if I was your first, thank you.” 

The toddler blinks, uncomprehending. “Wel’come.”

Shiro watches the two of them interact, a fuzzy feeling in his stomach he doesn’t understand. He does a quick internet search while he’s connected to the car’s hotspot, scrolling through the search engine.

Hmm…

Wait, what?

No. No, no it’s not like that! Sure, Lance is attractive, androids were created to at least be above average. Besides, it’s not like Shiro had much of a chance to discover his sexuality when he just gained genuine emotions less than two weeks ago and seventy five percent of that time was spent with a toddler. 

He’ll just...ignore that for now. 

What’s more important is the news article flashing in front of his eyes. 

_ Hey_, he calls to Lance, sending the article to him wirelessly, _ looks like they found the body. _

Lance’s LED spins from under his beanie. _ Oooh, nice adjectives. And a known child predator huh? No one will be crying over his death. _

_ Nope, _ Shiro crosses his legs, smiling as Keith stares out the window with wide eyed fascination. _ Nobody at all. _

:::

Date: OCT 20TH, 2038

Time: AM 11:23:52

They step outside the still dimly lit Zaiforge club, parking the car down the street after hacking the parking meter, because they have less than a hundred dollars on them collectively. Keith shivers at the cold air, pulling his sweater down to better cover his hands. Shiro kneels down next to him, ruffling through the duffel bag for his gloves, barely surprised when Lance follows his lead and practically shoves a hat with a cute little pom-pom at the top on Keith’s head. 

“Marshmallow!” Keith declares, waving his heavily bundled up arms. 

“And a cute one to boot.” Lance says fondly, tapping Keith’s nose and snorting at his scrunched up expression. “Now let’s go, stay close to your daddy, okay?”

Even if Keith doesn’t know the word, he still nods eagerly, holding up his arms for Shiro to pick him up, which he happily does so. Bouncing Keith on his hip, he follows behind Lance as they head down a small side-alley, watching as the other android knocks a certain pattern on the metal door. 

Uncertain about this whole situation, he slides up close to Lance, gently grasping his hand to interface. _ I don’t like this, _he says, feeling Lance’s own uncertainty. 

_ Me either. Just stay close and don’t let go of Keith. _

Shiro tightens his grip on the toddler. _ Not for the world. _

The door swings open. 

A BZ900 model gazes steadily at them, red lips parting slightly. Yet there’s slightly…different about her, in comparison to the HT800 - _ Pidge_. Something empty in her eyes, every expression pre-calculated in order to best appeal to her audience. Is this what he looked like before he ‘woke’ up? No wonder Keith hated it whenever Shiro used preset modulations to talk to him. It was something so distinctly unnatural and uncanny that even a toddler could see something was wrong. 

“Hello, Lance.” She greets quietly, voice devoid of emotion. “Welcome to Zaiforge. How may I be of assistance to you?”

“Nice to see you again.” Lance swallows, his hand tightening around Shiro’s. “Nyma.” 

The BZ900 - a sex model, one dressed in a short dress that barely covered anything and stiletto heels, only stared back at them. 

Lance takes a deep breath, back straightening up. “Can I speak to Rolo?” 

Nyma’s LED spins yellow for a brief moment. “Certainly. Please follow me.”

She leaves the door open behind her, turning around and picking her way through the dark nightclub. With a kiss to a suspiciously quiet Keith’s head and stroking the back of Lance’s hand with his thumb, he let’s himself be led. 

Though it’s the middle of the day, the nightclub is still dimly lit, the air stiff and windowless. There’s a couple of both humans and androids up on the stage, the humans stretching while the androids stare blankly ahead. Nyma strides through the tables and bars, passing by a room with equipment that has Shiro hiding Keith’s face into his vest. There’s lines of powder some of the humans are snorting, and odd sounds he doesn’t want to think about coming from behind the closed doors. 

He never realized how sheltered he really is, until now. 

Nyma brings them to a door at the end of the hallway, knocking gently on the wooden frame. “Rolo, I have Lance and his guests.” 

“Bring them in."

Pressing her hand against the door, Nyma’s skin peels back to unlock the electronic door knob. She holds the door open with a pleasant expression, gesturing them inside. 

_ No time like the present_, Lance whispers, trembling ever so slightly. Faintly, he could hear the thought _ I never thought I would have to go back here_. 

_ I got you. _Shiro promises sincerly. 

He feels Lance startle slightly, and then a breath of relief. _ Thank you_. 

Together, they head in. 

For some reason, Shiro’s a bit surprised at how…scruffy, the guy looks. Wearing a beanie not dissimilar to Lance’s and boots kicked up on his desk as he scrolls through his phone, he looks more like a harmless stoner than the owner of a quasi illegal nightclub. 

But when he looks up at them from his phone, Shiro knows that he’s fully aware of how his appearance comes across. “Hey, Lance.” Rolo sneers, the human slowly standing up. “Where are your masters? I thought they kept you on a tight leash.” 

Lance barely blinks, but inwardly, there’s such a wave of self-hatred and disgust that Shiro’s taken aback. He pulls back when he notices Shiro’s shock, stuffing down all his emotions until there’s barely a scrap of feeling coming from him. 

“I need passports for them.” Lance ignores the question entirely, tilting his head towards the two of them. “Did you not get the email?” He asks innocently. 

Distantly, Shiro notices Nyma closing the door, standing against the wall with her eyes half shut, a pose he recognizes as one he would often do when Keith was watching TV and he didn't have any work to do. 

Rolo shuffles through the papers on his desk. “No, I don’t think I did.” He raises one paper up and holds it up the light. “I haven’t heard much from them for a while now, actually. You know why?”

Lance is beginning to feel uneasy, he can tell. “No, I don’t.” 

“Oh, I think you have a clue.” Rolo chuckles, opening one of his drawers and pulling something out of it. “After all, you killed them.” 

Shiro drops to the floor immediately, yanking Lance’s hand along with him. Keith yelps, but it’s a good thing he does because the shot goes through the door instead of Lance’s chest. 

“Fuck!” Lance screams, their connection breaking as he hurriedly backpedals away from Rolo. Shiro fumbles around for the duffel bag, tossing it straight at Rolo to delay him before shakily pulling out his own gun and aiming for the human. 

The first shot misses. The second one only grazes his arm, and then Rolo is turning to look at him -

Before a paperweight smashes into his head. “Hey ugly!” Lance calls, whistling. “Aren’t you failing to aim at me?”

_ Go! _ Lance shrieks at him, making shaky eye contact with him. _Take Keith and run! _

He doesn’t have a choice. Bundling up the shaking Keith, he books it to the door, the hand holding the gun pressing against the door in order to unlock it. “No, no Shi’ro!” Keith cries as Rolo advances on a shaking Lance, Nyma still and unmoving against the wall. “No leaving ‘Ance!” 

The door unlocks, but his heart is torn in two. His first priority is always Keith, but Lance… 

Setting Keith down on his feet, he turns to face the room. “Keith, go! We’ll be there soon, I promise.” 

He hears Keith’s tiny footsteps scamper away, but then he’s already bowling into Rolo, raising the gun as a blunt force weapon. Shiro gets one good hit across his forehead before Rolo shakes him off, bringing his gun up - 

  * ****Jump in front of gun - Lance’s surviablitly 52% ****
  * **Take it - Lance’s survivability 38%**
  * **Stop Rolo - Lance’s survivability 75% **

Before he knows what he’s doing, he punching Rolo in the gut as hard as he can, Lance leaping over the desk to wrestle with the gun in Rolo’s hand. Kneeing him in the groin, Shiro shoves Rolo back, the gun tearing out of his grip and into Lance’s. 

Rolo hits the ground, looking up to two pairs of guns being aimed at him. But instead of being scared or even nervous, he just laughs. 

“Even if you kill me,” he chuckles die out, grinning up at them with malice in his eyes. “Everyone knows that you’re the one who killed the entire Sincline foundation. They _ won’t _ stop, you won’t be safe anywhere in Detroit, in the _ country_, not until you’re dead and your hard drives dissected to find out why you glitched so badly that you tortured the CEO and his wife for _ two _months before they died from their wounds and killed half of their contacts in the meantime. Did you hated being fucked that much? You sure liked it if it meant she was watching you -”

“_Shut up! _” Lance screams, his stolen pistol shaking dangerously. 

Rolo only grins. “Wanna hear a secret?” He paused for a secret, eyes drifting as if listening for something. “I called the cops the instant Nyma alerted me you were here. I wonder how much I’ll be paid for turning in the android that killed some of the most influential people on this planet?”

Lance’s breath catches, his entire body vibrating as he stares ahead with unseeing eyes. Shiro holsters his own gun, grabbing Lance’s bare wrist and interfacing as quickly as he can. _ We have to go, now! _

He’s terrified, torn between the memories Shiro can feel flickering too fast for him to follow and the smell of human sweat, but then he looks at Shiro with lost eyes. “Yeah,” he says, roughly. He listens. “Let’s go.” 

Soft footsteps sound behind them, and Lance whips his gun around to face the intruder, only for Nyma to stand in front of them with her hands raised. 

“Don’t worry,” She says softly, _ genuinely_. A shaky smile trembles on her painted lips, half scrubbed on the back of her palm. “I’ll handle Rolo from here. The little one is in a room near the back, being taken care of.” 

Lance bites his lip, then nods. “Thank you, Nyma.” 

“Take care, Lance.” She waves goodbye, before turning her attention to Rolo, who’s staring at her with wide eyes and slowly shaking his head in denial as his personal android stalks towards him. 

Interlocking his fingers with Lance’s, the two of them book it out of the room, Shiro noticing something amiss too late. _ The bag! _

_ Leave it! We don’t have time. _

The bag, which contained everything from their first aid box to whatever money they had left. And the police sirens are only getting louder. 

Gritting his teeth, Shiro keeps running. 

They burst into one of the rooms near the back, spotting Keith sitting on a table through the open doorway. What they weren’t expecting was the way several humans _ and _androids were fawning over him, offering him whatever bagged treats they could find and wrapping him up in a shawl that looked like it belonged to some kind of Halloween costume. 

Keith’s eyes widen when they run in, smiling brightly as Shiro lunges for his baby and scoops him up in his arms. “Shi’ro!” 

He distractedly kisses Keith’s forehead, watching out of the corner of his eye as one of the strippers pass Lance a key. “Take the back door,” he says to him, patting Lance on the shoulder. From this angle, Shiro can’t tell if he has an LED or not. “We’ll buy you some time.” 

“Thanks Beezer.” Lance nods thankfully, throwing his arms briefly around the scantily clad boy before drawing back and grabbing Shiro’s hand. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

Shiro nods, and with nothing but whatever items they’ve cobbled together and a single key, the three of them bolt out of Zaiforge and back into the alleyways of Detroit’s streets, still holding each other's hands as they run from the secrets of Lance’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bad end also occurs in this chapter :))) There's four bad endings, three normal endings, and one 'golden' ending. It's an automatic bad ending if Keith dies, and it's also an automatic (and different bad ending) if two or more of the party dies. Say Lance and Keith die, then it's a different outcome entirely then if just Keith died. Normal endings are if at least two survive, or just one, depending on whether or not certain requirements are fulfilled :)))


	7. Breathe Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chapter Where Literally Nothing Bad Happens (for once)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so fluffy and so big what the actual fuck

Date: OCT 20TH, 2038

Time: PM 4:28:03

Sitting between aisles of children’s books in the neighborhood’s Barnes and Noble, Shiro stares sightlessly ahead with his chin propped up on his knees. Lance leans against one of his sides, blue eyes glazed over as he shivers through another shaking fit, lost in memories that Shiro has given up on trying to pull him out of when failure greets him at every turn. Keith leans against his other side, silently running his hands over the children’s book that held strips of fabric meant to simulate real world textures. 

“I’m sorry,” Lance sobs quietly, eyes dull as tears stream down his face. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I promise, I didn’t mean to…”

Shiro sends calming emotions to Lance from where they’re interfacing through their palms, but if Lance feels it, he doesn’t know, Lance built a sky-high wall between them of code during one of his earlier lucid moments, and Shiro can’t feel a single thing from him. The only reason he knows Lance can still feel _ him _is the way the tears start to slow down, his breath shuddering out of him as he slumps into Shiro’s side. 

“‘Ance…?” Keith asks, concerned, but Shiro only pats Keith’s head with his free hand, shushing him quietly. The toddler frowns, but obediently goes back to his colorful book, brushing his fingers through the patch of fake cat fur.

Once both of them are relatively settled, until Keith wanders off to get a new book or Lance falls back into another flashback, Shiro goes back to staring into space, sure that if he still had an LED it would be spinning red. 

They lost the bag. Everything else, he could deal with, but the bag? How is he going to keep a three year old alive and healthy with no food and less than a hundred dollars to their name? 

All they have is: $96.23, a gun with six bullets left, a gun with ten bullets, a knife, Keith’s stuffed lion, one pack of thirium, a thin decorative shawl, and the clothes on their backs. 

What to do? What can he _ do_? 

Biting his lip, his free hand tightens on his knee, squeezing Lance’s when the other android starts to mumble to himself again. 

First of all, they need a place to stay when the store closes down. They can’t stay at the old motel, the clerk was starting to get suspicious of them, and the nearest one regardless is at least an hour walk. They’re in the bustling part of town, so he can’t hotwire a car out of here, and walking isn’t much of an option either, not when Lance is near comatose and he has a three year old with no shoes. 

At least for now, the store is warm and people give them pitying looks for Keith instead of disgusted ones if it was just him and Lance. 

Then what’s nearby that they can stay at? He connects to the bookstore’s wifi and pulls up his mapping systems, flicking through the neighborhood. It’s mostly commercial, not exactly what he was looking for, but maybe somewhere abandoned, but not too drafty. If Keith gets ill then all hope really is lost. 

He’s so tiny, so frail, if something happened like _ that _again than he’ll surely break - 

_ M̸r̸.̶ ̷S̶e̶n̴d̵a̸k̸,̸ ̸i̸t̸'̶s̷ ̶K̴e̸i̴t̴h̵ ̶-̸ ̵ _

Shiro blinks thousands of stars out of vision, getting the faintest image - 

_ It’s standing in the hallway, arms crossed behind its back as Mr. Sendak takes Keith by the hand and leads him to the bathroom. Keith glances hesitantly behind at Shiro, before Mr. Sendak calls his name loudly and the toddler startles, small feet tripping to keep up with his guardian’s uncaring much bigger strides. _

What…what was that? He knows he has some memory problems, but that doesn’t explain why such a memory triggered such an emotional response. Or the feeling of tears welling up in his eyes. 

Sniffing, Shiro wipes his eyes, ignoring Keith’s confused expression. Speaking of, why _ does _he have gaps in his memory? He doesn’t think Sendak ever struck him or anything for him to damage his memory processors. For him to beat Shiro, he would actually have to come home once in a while. 

Why, then? 

“‘Ance.” Keith calls, slowly folding the book back together and crawling to his knees. “‘Ance, wanna hug?” 

Lance seems to be lucid at the moment, if the way his head actually ticks a couple inches up in response to Keith’s voice. “No, I’m good honey.” He whispers hoarsely, voice shot. “Go play with Shiro - oh, okay then.” 

Keith had gotten up and walked in a far enough circle that neither of them could stop him before he directly plopped in Lance’s lap, looping his arms around Lance’s neck. “There, there.” He coos, voice pitched deeper as if he was trying to imitate someone. Or just Shiro, he realizes with a flush as Keith cups Lance’s face and kisses his forehead messily, the symbolism obviously not lost on Lance. 

“It be okay.” Keith promises, grinning up at Lance. Breaking eye contact, he pulls up his sweater, his stuffed toy falling out from where he had stuffed it underneath his clothes. Handing the toy to Lance, he waits until Lance takes it before backing away. “You keep.” Shuffling to a stand, he pats Lance’s head awkwardly. “Keep till feel better. Then give back.” He narrows his eyes, adding that last part pointedly. 

Lance stares at the toy in his hands, eyes wide and hands trembling. Shiro wonders if he too is thinking about much a harmless _ dog _toy has evolved to mean to all three of them. Then he nods, shaking so hard the bookcase behind them rattles, but looking more present since they escaped from Zaiforge. 

“I will.” He vows, looking up to meet Keith’s eyes. “I’ll take good care of it, I promise.” 

Keith nods, beaming at Lance so brightly that Shiro just wants to wrap him up in blankets and hide him from the world. Maybe allow Lance occasional visits, he amends, when he glances over and catches the exact same besotted expression on his face. 

As toddlers are wont to do, though, Keith quickly loses interest and turns to Shiro and gestures towards the book on the ground. “Shi’ro, present?” 

His heart sinks. “Oh honey…”

Shiro would - he would in a heartbeat. But they really can’t afford it, not with funds so low. 

But then Lance reaches over and takes the book. Glancing up at the ceiling, his eyes roam before catching on one of the security cameras, his pupils dilate for just a moment, before he turns to Keith and raises a finger to his lips, other hand already scratching at the price tag. 

“You gotta keep it a secret, okay?” Lance says softly, pulling back his leggings to slide the book in, pulling his shirt over it to cover the lump and then zipping up his jacket over it for good measure. “Okay?” 

Keith nods eagerly, all thoughts about no stealing flying out of his head at the notion of a present. “Okie doke! I best at secrets. Like Sh’ro’s Shi’ro and Sen-Sen’s -” He gasps, hands covering his mouth. 

Shiro’s…Shiro? He thinks for a moment, trying to figure out the first part of the sentence, before Lance figures it out first. 

“His white streak?” Lance questions, glancing back between the two of them. Ah, not Shiro’s Shiro - Shiro’s _ white_. Who taught Keith Japanese? 

Keith shallowly inclines his head, hands still over his mouth. “Sen-Sen said not to tell.” He mumbles past his hand. 

Lance’s hand twitches, and Shiro realizes that they’re still holding hands. He doesn’t let go, though. “Sen-Sen?”

“Javeeno Sendak.” Shiro says slowly. “My former owner and Keith’s permanent foster father.” He clears his throat, reaching out falteringly for Keith. “Baby, what do you mean that Sendak told you not to tell?”

What would Sendak not want a three year old to tell their domestic android? What would make Keith _ obey _that order to this day? 

“No tell!” Keith gasps out, his eyes watering up. “Please! No tell!” 

Shiro rears back, hand clutching at his vest. “O-okay baby, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t have to, I promise.” 

Keith slowly lowers his hands, giving Shiro an accusing glance. “Promise?

Lance is the one who offers out his hand, putting the stuffed toy in his lap to raise his pinkie in front of Keith. “Pinkie promise.” 

The toddler considers Lance’s hand for a moment, but then he wipes his tears away, linking their pinkies together. “Pinkie promise.” 

What did Sendak have Keith keep as a secret? They haven’t been alone together for six months, there’s no way that Keith could remember something that strongly so long ago. And why does Keith seem so terrified of letting the truth out? 

Does that mean that Shiro can’t trust his own memories? 

Before he can consider that terrifying thought any longer, Lance climbs to his feet, wiping his own face with the sleeve of his jacket. “C’mon.” He says to them, leaning down to sweep Keith up into his arms. Keith giggles, patting Lance’s stomach where he can undoubtedly feel the hard edge of the book poking into him. “We gotta find a place to stay for the night, a homeless shelter maybe?”

Shiro gets to his feet, doing a quick internet search. He pulls the results up on the side of his HUD, trading concerned glances with Lance. “There’s a family shelter about an hour and a half walking distance from here. It’s too cold for Keith to be out that long.” 

“No cold!” Keith disagrees, but both Lance and Shiro notice the way he burrows into his shawl as the door opens and lets in a breeze of freezing air.

“Then we do what everyone hates.” Lance grins. “Take public transportation.” 

:::

Date: OCT 20TH, 2038

Time: PM 7:06:19

Of course, an hour and a half walking distance meant three hours on a bus. At least Keith was having fun. 

“Green.” Keith chooses, the honorary picker for the 46th run of ‘Eye-Spy’, considering his babbling was difficult to understand even when Shiro knew what he was talking about. 

Lance hums, narrowing his eyes as he surveys the interior of the nearly empty bus before flicking his gaze out the window by his side. “The Starbucks' sign?” 

“Ugh!”

Shiro snorts, rubbing Keith’s hair until it’s even messier than it usually is, if that’s possible. Though Keith was the one to pick the landmarks, nobody said he was particularly _ good _at it. “Sorry buddy, pick another color?” 

Keith kicks his legs in the middle seat, sighing so seriously. “We there yet?” He asks, whining dramatically before Shiro can even open his mouth. “Bored!”

Bored, and overtired, if the way he was squinting at the seats in front of them was any indication. Lance makes a sympathetic noise from the window side, reaching over to hug Keith to his hip. “I know, I know. We’ll be there soon, I promise. Do I break my promises?” 

Just for a moment, a single moment, Lance’s eyes go dull, lost in memories about something. And then his hand squeezes Keith’s toy so hard the toy squeaks, and he jerks, surprise filling him as he stares down at the toy in his hands with something like wonder. 

Then Keith leans against his side, nuzzling up against his ribcage. “No!” He chirps. 

Shiro frowns. “Hey, Shiro wants some hugs too.” 

Keith gasps, breaking Lance’s hold to launch himself into Shiro’s lap. “Shi’ro, no! No sad.” He rambles out, hurriedly burrowing his face into Shiro’s side. 

‘Bitch’ Lance mouths at him. Shiro grins smugly, at him, double checking that Keith’s face was turned away before flipping him off. 

Lance gasps like an old southern lady, and that’s basically how the rest of their drive goes before they’re finally at Off the Streets Shelter. Keith waves goodbye to the bus driver over Shiro’s shoulder as he’s carried out of the building, looking up at the concrete building with trepidation.

Shiro can’t blame him - the entire neighborhood was almost deserted, filled with chain link fences and windows with cracked glass. But they didn’t have a choice. 

Almost subconsciously, he reaches out for Lance, shivering when Lance meets him halfway and interfaces with him as their fingers interlock. 

_ We still have two guns_, Lance reassures him as they walk as silently as possible down the snow slush filled sidewalk. _ We’ll be safe - _ Keith _ will be safe. _

_ I know. _Shiro says, not all comforted. The temperatures are dropping, fast. They need a place for Keith before he gets hypothermia. And if it means sleeping at a scummy shelter, then so be it. 

When they arrive in front of the dimly lit door, they exchange uneasy glances, Lance squeezing Keith’s toy gently, before they step inside. 

The lobby…isn’t all that bad, actually. Outdated, sure, and poor lighting, but there’s an attendant at the front desk who looks more bored than creepy at the front desk that they beeline too. 

“Hi,” Shio says when they step up, a little breathlessly. “I called ahead, Shirogane?” 

The attendant - Florona Taman - Lance sends him, having one of the more advanced systems capable of facial recognition - _ though it’s a little faulty since he smacked my head into the counter - _Lance thinks to himself, the thought accidentally getting caught in the intimate connection, looks down at her computer behind the screen and scrolls through something. 

“I see you.” Standing up, she retrieves a pair of keys and comes around to the front, unlocking the door for them. Florona opens the door next to the office, standing in the entryway with her arms open. “Okay, hand him over.” 

… what?

“What?” Lance thinks their shared thoughts out loud, hand tightening around Shiro’s. “Hand who over?”

Florona gestures impatiently. “The kid, who else?” At their stunned expressions, she sighs in aggravation, arms dropping. “Okay look, we don’t room children and adults together, even if you’re related. Too many lawsuits. Drop him off with me and you can see him in the morning for breakfast.”

Shiro’s already backing up, shaking his head wildly. “No, that’s not happening. He stays with me.” Keith glances between them in confusion, shrinking down as the hostility slowly rises in the air. 

Florona breaks it first. “Look,” she starts. “I’m not trying to be mean. It’s a secure room and he’ll get a bed to himself. There’s a security guard behind glass who will keep an eye on him. He’ll be perfectly safe. It’s getting cold outside, do you really want to do this to him?” 

Keith slowly seems to get what’s happening, his eyes widening. “Shi’ro…leaving?” He looks up at Shiro, thumb slowly drifting into his mouth as he bites down anxiously. 

It’s a warm room, and they’ll have to find another shelter fast. But can he really leave Keith behind? Risk something like _ M̸r̸.̶ ̷S̶e̶n̴d̵a̸k̸,̸ ̸i̸t̸'̶s̷ ̶K̴e̸i̴t̴h̵ ̶-̸ ̵ _happening again? 

No. No he can’t. 

He opens his mouth to turn Florona down, but Lance beats him to the punch. “We’ll take our chances outside.” He glares a bit, dragging Shiro back. “Have a good day, ma’am.”

They step outside the shelter, slamming the metal door shut and leaving both a warm bed for Keith and Florona’s disproving expression behind. 

Did they make the right choice?

“How much money do we have left from the bus ride?” Lance asks urgently, turning to face Shiro. 

Shiro sucks his lips in. “Seventy two dollars. We could get a night at a motel again, but only _ a _night.” 

Lance seems to consider the idea, their connection breaking as he brings his hands up to run through his hair. “Maybe,” he says slowly. “Are there any other family shelters in the area?”

His HUD pulls the information up, giving him the reviews and the location. “Five within walking distance, but…only three usable ones, no, one already closed for the night, so two.” 

Keith shivers in his arms, reaching out for someone to cuddle him. Both of them are there in an instant, Shiro bundling him up in his arms tighter while Lance wraps the shawl around him so many times his face can barely even be seen. “You’re gonna be okay,” Lance vows to Keith, giving Shiro an uncertain glance before kissing the top of his head. “Got it, little buddy?” 

But Shiro isn’t angry - he’s barely even jealous, not when Keith is so cold and so _ happy _by Lance’s affection. All he can focus on is the same fuzzy feeling in his stomach that he’s so hell bent on ignoring. 

“Mmh.” Keith nods, snuggling into Shiro’s chest. “First. Second.” 

“Second.” Lance repeats fondly, pulling Keith’s pom-pom hat down farther to cover his red ears. “Me too, hon.” 

Then Lance looks up at him, and Shiro notices for the first time that he’s actually _ taller _than Lance, which feels almost so surreal. “I have an idea.” Lance says, a grin twitching at the corner of his mouth. 

Shiro sighs. “Why do I not trust that smile?”

“No possible clue.” 

:::

Date: OCT 20TH, 2038

Time: PM 8:55:28

Lance swings Shiro’s hand as they cross the road, crossing the road to the dim sign declaring ‘**DETROIT INTERNATIONAL HOSTEL**’ for rooms as low as twenty four dollars a night. 

“I’m still waiting for that thank you.” Lance teases quietly. 

Shiro tosses him a displeased look. “And you’re not getting it.” He says just as quietly, mindful of the sleeping bundle wrapped up in his vest. Keith fell asleep about an hour into the walk, quiet little breaths huffing onto Shiro’s neck. 

He rocks Keith gently as Lance holds open the door for them, letting out a deep breath when the warm hair hits him. Keith’s cold face - too cold - shifts slightly at the heat, mumbling in his sleep before yawning, his eyes opening a crack as he surveys the new room. 

_ Plaxum Ikan_, Lance whispers to him through their connection as a woman with dyed hair rushes out of the back room as Lance knocks loudly on the doorframe when no one answers the door. “Hello! Yes, I’m sorry, I forgot to lock the door. How may I help you?”

“Do you have any beds available?” Lance asks, smiling even as Shiro looks at him in alarm at the sudden thick Spanish accent. 

Plaxum rubs her hands down her jeans, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry, no. We’re all out for the night.” 

Lance eyes tear up, reaching over to gently rub Keith’s back. “Please, my son and husband come with me from Japan, we’re very tired. It’s cold out and my son, please, he’s only three, we lost our luggage and he’ll get sick.” 

She chews her lip, eyes darting between the three of them, before settling on a yawning Keith who’s nuzzling Shiro’s neck sleepily. “Okay,” she exhales heavily, rubbing her am nervously. “We technically have one bed left, it’s against policy for you to share one but I’ll look aside just for the night. You’re from Japan, right? We don’t allow Detroit area residents to stay here.” 

Ah, the accent makes sense now. Lance is trying to make them seem as unamerican as possible. Though considering Lance was made to appear of Latino descent, and Shiro’s creation was definitely inspired by Japanese ethnicity, and Keith is of at least partially mixed ancestry, they sell the part pretty convincingly. 

Keith perks up at the name ‘Japan’, clumsily patting Shiro’s face. “Shi’ro.” He breathes too heavily on Shiros’ ear. “Shi’ro, Usgai.” He grimaces slightly at Keith’s ‘whisper’, murmuring an acknowledgement and encouraging Keith to lower his head back to his shoulder, which the toddler thankfully does after a few moments. 

“Yes, Nara, thank you so much.” Lance lies cheerily, taking Shiro by the elbow when Plaxum turns to show them the room upstairs and guiding him after her. “How much will this cost?” 

She holds open the door to the still pretty empty room, a few people getting ready for bed or relaxing in bed. Of course, none of them are under the age of ten, so that explains why. “Twenty five for a bed.” 

Lance dips his hand in Shiro’s pocket, sorting out the cash before handing Plaxum the desired amount. So that leaves…forty seven dollars left. “I can’t thank you enough for this, really.” 

Plaxum waves dismissively, counting the money out before slipping it in her own pocket. “It would be cruel of me to force some lost tourists out on the streets at this hour. Your bed is the bottom bunk all the way at the end on the right side. Get some rest, and we’ll see about accommodations in the morning. I’m sure I can pull out some cots or a sleeping bag somewhere.”

She’s…genuine about it. A human who would go out of their way to help others - so strange. 

He has the strangest impulse, and without thinking it through, he holds Keith firmly against his chest and shallowly bows. Standing up again, he blinks back a mirror image of him doing the same thing, looking down at a pair of military boots. 

Plaxum blushes a little bit, holding her cheek as she looks away. “Oh, it’s no problem. See you all in the morning.” She waves goodbye before retreating down the stairs, her bubbly voice chatting with whatever tourists are downstairs. 

Lance tugs on his sleeve, ticking his head towards the bed. “Come on, let’s tuck him in.” 

Shiro nods, rubbing his hand down Keith’s back before carrying him to the bunk. All the beds were separated by small quasi-wooden walls, creating an effect that was not dissimilar to cubbies. The sheets were clean of any bed bugs, so he felt comforted as he kneeled down in the small three and a half feet wide bed and laid Keith down on the pillow, slowly unwinding the shawl around him so his body doesn’t get chills from not acclimating to the temperature. He folds the shawl neatly, Lance crawling across the mattress to help Keith sit up and slide off his sweater. 

By some unspoken signal, they keep Keith’s undermost layer on, not trusting him being in just his underwear with so many strangers around. Once the clothes were folded up in the top corner of the bed and Keith was yawning into the pillow, they began to back off, before Keith’s small hand comes up to wrap around two of Shiro’s fingers. 

Keith slowly blinks, smiling so tremendously innocently that Shiro feels shattered, helpless to do anything but stay still for his baby. 

“Stay?” He asks sleepily, patting the mattress next to him. Shiro eyes the space for a moment, considering the bunk could really handle two adults crammed in here as well as a child. Then Keith’s lip wobbles. “Please dun’t go.” 

How can he say no to that?

Shiro brushes back his bangs, smiling kindly at his baby, his _ son_. “Of course. Right, Lance?”

Lance nods eagerly, already sliding off his snow boots and stacking them on the floor at the bottom of the bed, keeping his back to the room as he unholsters his gun and knife, sliding them to hide under Keith’s clothes. The book gets laid on top of the pile, along with Keith’s toy. Shiro follows his example, unlacing his boots before placing them next to Lance’s, shuffling up the bed to hide his own gun. 

The two of them are already tucked together on their sides, Keith snuggled up under Lance’s chin with the android’s arm wrapped protectively around him. Shiro sighs good naturedly, climbing into whatever room is left over on the other side of Keith and throwing his arm across both of them, resting his head on his other arm. 

“Goodnight, you two.” Shiro whispers, making eye contact with Lance. Those blue eyes are too bright in the dim lighting of the bunk, and his stomach twists not unpleasantly at the shared happiness both of them share for this one moment. 

“Night.” Lance repeats, smiling softly at Shio, looking like there’s nowhere else in the world he would rather be. His blue LED spins underneath his beanie, and Shiro feels the faintest trace of his consciousness brush against his. 

“Night night.” Keith mumbles, smile evident in his voice even as sleep tugs him underneath, cuddling the both of them as best as he can. 

_ Hey, _Lance whispers against his mind. 

And Shiro, happier with this idyllic moment more than he can say, smiles back. _ Hey. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://anawriteshorror.tumblr.com/post/187993220304/i-got-bored-today-so-i-made-some-aesthetic-boards
> 
> I made some aesthetic boards for this fic, check them out! I'm really proud of how Keith's turn out. 
> 
> Also! I think this fic will be fifteen chapters, we'll see. Might be longer because they keep having Bonding Moments between all the action


	8. Embrace for Impact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro, Lance, and Keith play the most dangerous game of Red Light, Green Light in existence. 
> 
> Also, Shiro and Lance flirt. Like a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters just keep getting longer and longer help
> 
> When the gang starts running, I would really recommend listening to his https://soundcloud.com/user-496793323/8-run-with-me-detroit-become-human-ost (for mobile users) or just the youtube link, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZGmYcZB_oAI
> 
> It's not necessary, but I just fell in love with the soundtrack piece completely and it adds some really nice ambiance.

Date: OCT 21TH, 2038

Time: AM 7:35:44

“We have to rob another store.” 

Shiro groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know.” He says quietly. They really do - Keith hasn’t eaten anything in over a day, and while Shiro made him drink plenty of water from the bathroom sink, he must be starving by now. 

“Go?” Keith asks, looking up from where he was playing with legos on the floor. 

Plaxum was much kinder than expected to a trio of supposed lost tourists, offering to call them a taxi and pulling out some dusty old toys for Keith to play with out of a spare closet, citing former guests who left them behind and never got around to throwing them away. 

“Nowhere, honey.” Shiro hurriedly assures him. Not yet, anyhow. But Keith needs the stability of a least a little peace and time for him to be just a kid for a while, so he lies through his teeth, thankful when the boy shrugs and goes back to his legos, shortly dropping them to go toddle over to some crayons and paper Plaxum set out for him. 

Turning to face Lance, he whispers so that Keith won’t hear it. “But what will we do with him?”

Lance shrugs. “Leave him in the car?” He whispers back, looking a bit lost. “We could…take him inside with us?” 

At Shiro’s glare, he raises his hands defensively. “Hey, we don’t have that many options. If we put him out of the line of fire but easy to retrieve, we could grab him easily and book it.”

He furrows his eyebrows, so unsure what to do. It’s a better alternative than leaving him in an unheated car, or back in the hostel room they share with twenty others. But he still doesn’t like it. 

“We both have guns, and we can handle ourselves.” Lance reassures him, setting a hand on his shoulder. “What’s a little extra baggage gonna do?”

“Did…did you just refer to Keith as baggage?”

“May not have been the best wording on my part.”

Thankfully, Keith interrupts them before Shiro can strangle him in broad daylight. “Shi’ro! ‘Ance! Look, look!” The toddler waddles over to them, showcasing the picture he drew. 

On the thin sheet were three stick figures all holding hands, two big ones and a shorter one. Two of them had dark hair, but the taller one had a faint scribble where white on white was drawn, and the other one has brown hair and a blue circle on the side of his forehead. 

“Me and Shi’ro and ‘Ance.” Keith points at each of them, glancing up to catch their reactions. “We lives in big house and watch Squid Marvin-” Lance mouths the shortened version of the cartoon’s name, utter bafflement on his face. “And Shi’ro and ‘Ance kissy face -”

Wait what. 

He doesn’t realize he said that aloud until Keith stops mid sentence to look up at him. “Kissy.” He says, like it’s obvious. And to a three year old it must be, because he just nods and leaves the drawing in Shiro’s lap before going back to play with his legos.

…Shiro still folds the paper up and tucks it away in his vest though. 

“Well,” Lance says, cheeks a bright blue. “Let’s get heading before either of us die of embarrassment.” 

“Good idea.” 

:::

Date: OCT 21TH, 2038

Time: AM 8:42:03

The three of them scout up and down the street, Keith happily sipping his apple juice from the McDonald’s kid’s meal that was his oh so nutritional breakfast. 

Lance tilts his head to the side as they slow to a stop in front of a coffee shop. “Here?” He asks, eyeing the fairly empty store. 

Shiro hums. “Maybe? Keith, do you have to use the restroom?” Keith shakes his head no, but Shiro only narrows his eyes. “Are you sure?” 

“No!...Well, maybe.” Keith admits sheepishly, kicking his legs. 

“Here it is then.” Lance laughs, holding the door open for them. Shiro smiles gratefully and heads to the back of the cafe while Lance stands in front of the blackboard looking genuinely interested in their drink items, but at this point even without the connection Shiro can tell he’s faking it.

“Can you reach everything okay?” He asks, setting Keith down on his feet. Thankfully, the bathroom floor was recently cleaned, but he’ll still have to see about getting Keith’s socks washed after this. 

Keith sticks his tongue out at him. “‘M not baby!”

Shiro badly hides his snicker. “Of course, honey. Take your time.” With that, he closes Keith in the bathroom, waiting until the door clicks shut before hurrying over to a nearby table and jamming the handle shut with the stolen chair.

There - now Keith won’t wander out if they end up taking too long. 

When he rejoins the main room, his eyebrows raise to see Lance with his hood up, back to the room as he supposedly looks at a board of children’s pictures. 

Shiro walks up next to him, putting a hand to the small of his back. “Everything okay?” 

Lance glances at him out of the corner of his eyes, shivering faintly. “Look behind you.” He breathes. 

There’s the coffee bar, a couple table and chairs, a pair of cops ordering at the cash register, a small TV high up in the corner… 

…with a picture of Lance on it. 

_ Missing MC300 Model Behind Mysterious Sincline Foundation Deaths _

_ Get Keith and leave! _Lance sends him, back hunching as Shiro can practically taste the amount of fear wafting off of him. 

_ Not without you. _Shiro’s hand slides down Lance’s back to grip his hip, bringing him protectively into the shelter of his body. 

_ It’s too dangerous with me anymore_, Lance’s red LED spins. _ I should have left the instant I realized the cops were on to me. I’m putting you and Keith in danger! _

Shiro squeezes. _ And how do you think Keith would feel if you abandoned him? _

Lance’s eyes flick down to the stuffed animal protruding out of his pocket. _ I… _

“‘Ance? Shi’ro?” 

Both of them startle, craning their heads behind them to see Keith standing innocently at their feet. He tilts his head to the side at their confused expressions, reaching up to tug on Lance’s jacket. “Up?” 

Shiro glances to the hallway where the bathroom is, blinking at the chair laying on it’s side in the middle of the floor. Guess he didn’t put it in tightly enough. 

_ I…I can’t right now. _

_ It’s okay, I got him. _ Shiro assures, kneeling down to sweep Keith up into his arms. _ Keep your head down, we’re leaving. _

Lance’s hand reaches out for him, and he squeezes reassuringly, not even realizing that they weren’t using the hand holding as an excuse to interface until they were almost at the door. 

\- And then the door opens for them, another officer about to enter the coffee shop. He nods politely at them, eyes barely skimming them, before he chances a glance at Lance. 

The realization hits.

“You’re the android from the news,” he says breathlessly. “Guys, it’s the MC300!” 

Lance charges past him, shoulder checking the officer to the ground before scrambling up, dragging Shiro and Keith behind him. Keith clings tighter to Shiro’s neck as they race down the wet street, boots slipping and sliding down the snow slushed concrete. 

All three of them glance up when the train rumbles on the track up above their heads, heading right towards the station. _ We need to go that way! _

Shiro glances down alleyways frantically, skidding on his heel and pulling Lance along with him. _ This way, quick! _

Footsteps echo behind them as they sprint down the narrow street, hands falling apart as they reach a chain link fence. Lance scrambles up to the top of the fence, precariously balanced as he holds his arms out for Keith. Shiro passes the toddler up to him, climbing as fast as he can to join them as Lance’s footsteps hit the mud with a shaking Keith in his arms. 

He lands heavily on the other side, glancing behind them to their pursuers. A woman slams into the chain link fence behind them, short bobbed hair fluttering in the wind as she bares her teeth into a snarl. 

They make eye contact, for just a brief moment. Another officer races behind her, gun raised, but the woman with the bobbed hair turns to face her. “We need it alive!” He hears her shout, but he’s already spinning around and grabbing Keith’s hand, barely noticing Lance grabbing Keith’s other one before they skid down the muddy hill. 

“We won’t make it!” Lance yells as they stumble to the bottom, drenched in mud and rain, right in front of the four lane highway, all of the cars speeding by going upward of sixty miles per hour. 

AUTOMATED CAR TRACK

VERY HIGH SPEEDS

NO PEDESTRIAN CROSSING

△DANGER DANGER△

Shiro glances wildly around, but there’s no other options. It’s either cross or die. 

Lance and him make eye contact, and they both know it’s true. As one, they glance down at Keith. 

Who’s staring at the cars with utter terror in his eyes, hands clenching as tightly to theirs as he can as he hiccups softly. Shiro won’t be able to carry him across, he needs his hands free. Keith has to make it on his own.

“I’m scared…” Keith chokes out, eyes darting around to all the cars zooming past them. 

Lance crouches down, patting Keith’s shoulders reassuringly. “Do you know Red Light Green Light?” Keith shakily nods his head, letting go of Shiro’s hand to hold onto Lance’s sleeves. “Well, we’re gonna play a little game, okay? Trust me. Do I break my promises?”

“N-no.” Keith stammers out, managing a small smile. Lance glances up behind them, his yellow LED sliding red, before he stands up and swings Keith over the guardrail, both of them following right after and holding Keith’s hands. 

“Shiro, if we don’t -” Lance starts to say, but Shiro shakes his head, eyes firmly on the road.

“We’re getting through this.” He says, voice as steady and calm as he can make it. Lance and him might survive a glancing hit, but if Keith gets even close…“Green light!”

They dash across the lane, Lance barely able to eek out a “Red light!” before they stop on the dotted line, their sudden momentum pulling Keith too forward. Keith screams, but Shiro yanks him back by his hand and to safety. 

“Green light!” They cross the second lane, but Lance lingers behind too long. Shiro lets go of Keith with a screamed, “Red light!” before grabbing Lance by the front of his shirt and hefting him to safety. He almost drags Lance right into the road, but Keith latches onto Lance’s jacket and pulls him back with surprising strength. Lance stumbles onto the dotted line with them, looking winded, but protectively grabs Keith’s shoulders and tugs him back against his legs. 

Shiro watches the traffic, grabbing Keith’s tiny hand desperately. “Green light!” They sprint across the third lane, not even stopping on the line before continuing across the fourth. Shiro’s eyes widen as the incoming car comes too fast, pushing Keith and Lance to safety. 

“Shi’ro!” “Shiro!” 

The car clips his right arm, the vibration sending uncomfortable tingling sensations even as his programmed reaction is to flinch. He rushes across the last lane, sharing an unreadable glance with Lance before they help Keith over the central guardrail. They barrel down the small stretch of grass between the north and south highways, glancing behind them as the woman with the short hair makes her way across the highway after them. 

Blue thirium leaks down his sleeve and across his hand, staining Keith’s sweater as he picks him up under his shoulders and manhandling him over the guardrail. “Green light!” They bolt across the first lane too quickly, the car coming at them too fast, and Lance uses his momentum to toss Keith, right into the center of the third lane. Keith yelps as he skids across the concrete, then shrieks at the sight of a car coming at both of them, before Shiro tackles Lance out of the way, his right arm taking more damage as the car crashes against it. They slide into the second lane, Lance barely able to howl a shrill _ KEITH! _from where they’re accidentally interfacing, and both of them look up to see Keith scrambling to his feet trying to run as a car barrels right towards him. 

He won't make it in time

"Get down!" Shiro screams, heart breaking in his chest as Keith's head swings around to stare at them as he wobbles to a stand. Something passes between them, a whole history of love and loss packed in one moment. 

M̸r̸.̶ ̷S̶e̶n̴d̵a̸k̸,̸ ̸i̸t̸'̶s̷ ̶K̴e̸i̴t̴h̵ ̶-̸ ̵

Keith hits the ground. His petrified violet eyes keep eye contact with Shiro as the car gets closer and closer, hyperventilating on the ground - 

Right as the car passes over him, Keith small enough to fit safely between it's wheels. 

Shiro lets go of Lance, tearing across the two lanes and dragging up Keith by his hand to the dotted line. Lance hovers on his own track a lane behind them, motioning them to go on. Shiro bites his lip, but turns around and grabs Keith by his shoulders. “Green light!” He yells, right before he pushes Keith across the last lane and to the safety of the guardrail, before turning around just in time to watch the woman grapple with Lance. 

He reaches for his gun, but stops, knowing that he’s a bad shot and he can’t risk hitting Lance. But he doesn’t have to worry, because Lance elbows her right in the gut, pushing her back before turning around to race across the two lanes to join Shiro, grabbing his hand before they rejoin with Keith. 

Who sobs brokenly at them, reaching up for Lance to hold him, whimpers increasing in pitch as Lance scoops him up in his arms and hops over the last guardrail. Shiro follows after them, pulling his bleeding arm out of his sleeve and wrapping it around his torso. They glance one last time behind them, to the woman staring at them from across the highway, before climbing up the hill and out of sight. 

:::

They run into the empty train, laughing breathlessly as they collapse into a pair of seats. Lance adjusts Keith on his lap, cupping his wet cheek fondly. “Hey, how are you feeling? Are you hurt?”

Keith slowly shakes his head, leaning forward to gently rest his head on Lance’s chest, nuzzling where Lance’s thirium pump beats with a gentle kind of reverence. “‘m okay.” He whispers, hands coming up to clench Lance’s ripped jacket. “Don’t leave.”

Lance’s face softens, settling a hand on the back of Keith’s head. “I won’t.” He murmurs, dropping a kiss on Keith’s forehead. “I won’t ever leave, okay?” 

“Good.” Keith mumbles, snuggling closer to the MC300. “Second.” 

“Second.” Lance agrees fondly, leaning into Shiro’s side with his head resting on the older android’s shoulder. Shiro pulls him closer with an arm over his shoulders, laying his head on top of Lance’s curls. 

And that’s how they stay, for the rest of the train ride back to the hostel, a quiet sort of intimacy. 

:::

Date: OCT 21TH, 2038

Time: AM 10:15:21

“Okay, so we have basically no money, our clothes are soaked - keep drinking - and covered in god’s know what, you’re injured, Keith’s shaken up, - keep drinking! - my face is plastered all over the city, and we have no way to get to Canada - I swear to god Shiro!” 

Shiro pauses from where he was chugging the thirium pack, slowly pulling it back to his mouth. Keith watches with rapt fascination at the bright blue liquid, luckily not noticing or caring as Lance digs his hands through Shiro’s arms. 

He had shut off his thirium output to it - only meant for when an android loses a limb and they’re at risk of severe thirium loss but worked just as well for Lance messing around with an open wound. Lance right hand makes a squishing sound as he fixes all his misplaced bio-components, brushing against his sensory input systems, which sends a violent shiver down Shiro’s spine. 

“Sorry,” Lance mumbles through the screwdriver in his mouth they stole from Plaxum’s garage. He spits it out into the small bathroom’s sink next to where Shiro and Keith are sitting on the counter, a grating sound emerging from Shiro's arm as he tugs something back into line. “Can you move your fingers now?”

Gently, he curls his fingers into a fist, wincing at the large screeching emerging from inside his arm. Only his thumb and index finger obey the order, his other three fingers unresponsive. 

Lance groans, digging deeper into his arm. “I thought I had already gotten the fourth and fifth circuits.” At his side, Keith copies Shiro in curling his fingers, looking absolutely intrigued by a basic ability. 

“Guess not.” Shiro shrugs, watching the way Lance’s blue eyes narrow in concentration as he reconnects loose wires and components. He blinks when Lance suddenly looks up, their faces inches apart. 

“Oops.” Lance murmurs slowly, but he doesn’t back away, eyes half lidded. Instead, he’s getting closer…?

“Shi’ro!” Both of them jerk back, looking down at Keith’s bored expression. “Boo-boo gone?”

Lance looks away, cheeks blue. “Soon, I promise.” He studiously goes back to Shiro’s arm, tightening a few bolts before slipping his blue soaked hands out of Shiro’s arm. “Okay, now try.”

This time, his hand fully curls up into a fist, though with a touch of a second delay than usual. Running a full diagnosis scan on himself, he sees that he just needs to reprogram some software in his arm, and he should be good. He reengages his self healing protocols, watching the wound slowly starts to close shut. 

“Good.” Lance smiles when he successfully manages to make a fist, holding his dripping hands awkwardly, then considerably. 

Then he licks his hand. 

“Ew,” Shiro grimaces, leaning back as Lance licks a long line up his wrist. “That’s basically my blood you’re drinking.” 

Lance shrugs, a line of blue around his mouth. “What? I’m reusing it, this shit costs seventy dollars a pack, I’m not wasting it.” He goes back to slurping up the blue blood, his tongue dragging slowly up the back of his palm. 

Okay, that’s weirdly sexy and Shiro’s just gonna ignore that like right now. 

“Shi’ro, Shi’ro.” Keith tugs on the bottom of his vest. “I try?” 

“No baby.” Shiro shakes his head, smiling despite himself. “That’s toxic for humans, you’ll get a really bad tummy ache.” 

“No I won’t!” Keith denies violently. He reaches up to try and scoop some off of Lance’s arms, but Lance responds by attempting to shove his hand in his mouth rather than, you know, just back away. 

“Children.” Shiro groans, shaking his head with a laugh. Reaching forward, he drags Keith into his lap, affectionately kissing his damp and mud covered head. “We need to get you in a bath, mister.” 

“I hate baths.” Keith protests sadly, sinking into Shiro’s hold. 

the broken music box still continues to play its tune

Shiro breathes out. “I know baby. I know.” 

Lance looks between the two of them with an unreadable glance, licking the last of the thirium off his hands. “Why don’t we take a bath together, then? Make it fun.” 

And that’s how they find themselves crammed in the small bathtub in their underwear, dripping clothes washed in the tub earlier laid over the radiator to dry. Shiro sits on the far end with Lance between his legs, head resting on his hand as Lance scrubs Keith’s hair, his other hand tracing absent minded patterns over Lance’s bare back. 

“Lean back for me?” Lance asks, helping Keith lay back in the water to wash the shampoo out of his long hair. Keith’s violet eyes drift open to stare at the ceiling, and Shiro feels himself stiffen up unconsciously. 

_ What’s with you? _Lance asks when he pulls Keith back up, dumping probably half the conditioner bottle into his hand before digging his fingers through Keith’s snarled hair - it’s been days since the boy’s hair has seen a hairbrush, evidently. 

Shiro lets out a shuddering breath. _ Keith almost drowned once, it scared both of us really badly. I’m still uneasy about him in bodies of water. _

Lance tilts his head to the side, his LED sliding from blue to yellow. _ Oh, really? _He stills for a moment, as if listening for something, before stiffening, his breath leaving him. He glances down sharply at the boy in his arms, but Keith only splashes at the water. 

“Everything okay?” Shiro asks out loud, tracing a pattern even he can’t understand along Lance’s spine. He hovers over the connection port on the back of Lance’s neck, the only inhumane thing about him besides his yellow LED. 

Yellow slides back into blue. “Fine!” Lance smiles over his shoulder at him, leaning back into his chest. “Just a bit worried, he’s so tiny. I don’t know much about children, that wasn’t one of my programs, did it…?”

Shiro shakes his head, wrapping an arm around Lance’s stomach and pulling him closer. Keith, oblivious of the fact that they’re talking about him, scoops up a handful of soapy water and attempts to give himself a soap beard, giggling everytime it collapses in on itself. “No long term effects, thankfully. Kids bounce back fast.” 

Water splashes in his face. Both him and Lance sputter, staring at the giggling Keith with wide eyes. “Got you.” Keith cheers, smug as can be.

Lance stares, gobsmacked, but quickly rears back with a huge smile. “Oh, you’re getting it now.” He snarls playfully, descending on Keith with probing fingers digging into his sides. Keith shrieks loudly, flailing in Lance’s hold. “Shi’ro, help!” 

Shiro hums. “I don’t know bud, you don’t think you can get out of it on your own?” 

“Shi’ro!!”

“Fine, fine.” Shiro chuckles, reaching out to pinch the port at the nape of Lance’s neck, because while androids were fortunately not programmed with ticklish as one of their features, they did have a few sensitive areas that elicited a somewhat similar response. At least on Shiro, they do. 

Sure enough, Lance squeals. Loudly. “No fair!” Thrashing, Lance lets go of Keith, craning his arm over Shiro’s in an attempt to reach Shiro’s own port. 

“Nope!” Shiro sing-songs, grabbing both of Lance’s wrists firmly. “Don’t even try it, I’m built to be significantly stronger than most androids.” 

Lance wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh really?” He purrs, and Shiro feels thirium heat up his cheeks. Lance shifts his weight slightly, wet thighs slipping against his own, and Shiro was starkly reminded that while Shiro was made for any and all housekeeping so his outward appearance didn’t matter much, Lance _ knew _he was attractive. 

Their heads tilted towards each other, Shiro slowly releasing his grip on Lance’s wrists, his hands running up Lance’s arm and spidering across his palm. Their fingertips touched, and he could feel Lance’s human skin slowly start to fade back at his fingertips, reaching out for a connection - 

And someone sneezes. 

They freeze. 

_ Keith. _

Both of them whip their heads around, staring at Keith with wide eyes. Who waves back, looking completely enthralled in their show. “Kissy face.” He confirms to himself, nodding solemnly. “Done?” 

“Yeah,” Shiro says distantly, a little shell-shocked. Lance looks no better in his lap. “We’re done now.”

:::

Once they dried off and Keith was sitting on the tile at Shiro’s feet with the pilfered legos, Lance slips back into the bathroom they’re not so secretly hoarding, locking the door behind him. 

Lance stops in front of him, his knife held in his hand. He flips the blade around, handle first, to Shiro with wide blue eyes. “Could you…?” He asks, brushing back one of his curls to show off his blue LED. 

“You want to…?” It wasn't the worst idea. Lance would certainly blend in better without having to wear a hat all the time. 

“I want _ you _to.” He says, folding Shiro’s hands over the blade. “Please?”

How could he deny that? 

Shiro tucks Lance’s hair behind his ear gently, guiding him in front of the mirror. The LED spins yellow as he brings the blade towards Lance’s face. “It doesn’t hurt.” He reassures, though androids can’t feel physical pain. Not in a way that humans could understand. 

“I know.” Lance says simply, tilting his head to the side. Offering his LED as best he could. 

He levers the blade under the LED, wincing as it starts to peel away from Lance’s skin, the surrounding areas reverting to his metal layer. The LED resists at first, but it eventually tears off with a quiet ‘ping’ into the sink, Lance’s skin slowly returning to cover the white area. 

“There you go,” Shiro breathes, skimming his fingers over the side of Lance’s face. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into the touch with a gentle kind of earnestness. 

Keith tugs at his pants, looking up at Lance with wide eyes. Then he grins. “Pretty.” He says, reaching up for Lance to hold him, which he easily does, bouncing him on his hip. Keith pats Lance’s forehead, kissing the spot where the LED used to rest. 

“There.” He grins. “Boo-boo gone.” 

Lance smiles back, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together, leaning into Shiro’s chest. Shiro wraps his arms around them, stroking a soothing hand down Keith’s back when the little boy sniffs at their freshly laundered clothes with a look of satisfaction at the semi-familiar soap. 

“Boo-boo all gone.” Lance _ beams_, tapping Keith’s nose playfully. “All better now, I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just,, so much godamn fluff,,, I'm dying,,,,
> 
> Also! Another potential bad ending in this chapter! I've finally started writing these endings, lol, they'll be posted in a separate work and they're just angst. Just a lot of angst


	9. Whiplash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Lance bond, flirt, and fight. In that order. 
> 
> Also Keith is being adorable, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now accepted the fact these chapters are gonna be like 4K or more from now on. I was aiming for 3K but you know what, 4K works too

Date: OCT 21ST, 2038

Time: PM 1:07:49

Shiro glances up from where’s he anxiously recounting cash to Lance trampling into the empty living room, holding something…on his shoulders? 

“I seem to have misplaced Keith!” Lance gasps dramatically, spinning around. Keith waves from where he’s hanging by his ankles on Lance’s back, smothering his adorable giggles behind his hand. “Keith! Oh Keith, where have you gone? I will simply perish without you!” 

Keith muffled giggles slip out. “I hear something! Shiro, do you hear where Keith might have gone?” The toddler puts a finger against his lips, hushing Shiro loudly. 

Shiro’s lips quirk up, folding up the bills left and tucking them away in his pocket. “Oh, I have no idea.” He drawls. “Have you checked behind you?”

Keith gasps like he just got shot, deeply betrayed. 

“Behind me?” Lance turns around in a circle, around and around and around. “Where? Where?”

“Right behind you!” Shiro chuckles as Lance starts jumping as he spins, swaying Keith from side to side. 

Keith _ howls _he’s laughing so hard, giving up on trying to pretend that he isn’t hanging on Lance’s back. Lance still looks around for him, skipping around the hostel and jostling Keith exaggeratedly with every step. “Shiro! Where’s my boy?”

He raises an eyebrow, not bothering to hide his amused smirk. “Have you checked on your back?”

“Shi’ro!”

Lance stagger back. “On my back?” He asks wonderingly. “Hmm, maybe I should lay down to double check.” Slowly leaning back, he smirks as Keith squeaks loudly. 

“No no no! No squishy!” Keith squeals, thrashing around as Lance tilts back towards the couch in slow motion, keeping his balance perfectly. “I’m no pancake!” 

Lance pauses. “Are you sure? Because I could just _ eat you up_!” With that, he drops Keith on the couch, whipping around with a mock growl. Keith shrieks, scrambling across the couch and into Shiro’s arms, pulling them around him. 

“Shi’ro, protect!” He practically demands, curling up into Shiro’s lap. Shiro sighs good naturedly, scooping the toddler up into his arms and pinning Lance with a smirk. 

“I think I have a better idea.” Keith scrambles up in his hold as he stands up, looping his arms around Shiro’s neck. Lance backs up at his expression, a bit of nervousness entering his face as Shiro grabs one of the couch’s pillows. “Let’s get him!” 

“Wait Shiro - Shiro! Ow! Not the face! Anywhere but the face!”

“Go Shi’ro! Fight!”

“This is payback time for making me clean up after you!”

Plaxum coughs delicately from where she’s standing in the entryway between the kitchen and the living room. “I’m glad you’re having fun, but I will have to charge you if you destroy any of my pillows.” 

Shiro pauses from where’s he straddling Lance with a pillow shoved over the other android’s face and a toddler clinging to his back. “Oh, sorry.” He slowly gets up, putting Keith down on his feet with one hand and helping Lance up with the other. 

“Thanks for the save.” Lance says charmingly, brushing his leggings off as he stands up, ruffling Keith’s hair when the little boy pouts at their fun being interrupted. 

“It’s no problem.” Plaxum laughs behind her hand, striding into the living room with a broom in hand. “I was just cleaning up a little bit before the afternoon rush. Carry on.” 

Shiro opens his mouth to say something - but then Keith breaks away to run towards her, jumping at the broom that she narrowly pulls up in time. “Limbo!” 

He puts his head in his hands, sighing deeply. _ What have I done wrong? _

Lance sounds amused as he sends back his own message. _ Played too many games indoor? _

_ Sendak didn’t allow either of us to leave the apartment and Keith only had so many toys, I got desperate, okay? _

Lance pauses, his face going eerily blank as they watch Plaxum laugh as she holds the broom just out of reach. _ That seems a bit…abusive. Kids should get the chance to play outside and talk to other people. _

_ He was just worried. _ Shiro defends, though he doesn’t know why he’s defending someone he killed in cold blood because he was jealous. _ He didn’t want something like _ ** _@%^*()!^%!(][;/*_ **

** _3^%$_ **

** _*&}{[\|||H\’;_**

** _MR. SENDAK IT’S _ **

**_K _** **_E _****_I_** **_T _** **_H _**

Both of them collapse to the ground, hands over their ears as the connection _ screeches_, splintering apart forcibly as everything goes dark. Shiro bends over his knees, blinking past the dozens of error signs to see small hands holding his face, Keith’s asking him soundless question. He reboots his audio processors when Keith starts looking desperate, shouting something at Plaxum - 

“…no hear!?”

Shiro groans, catching both of their attentions. Keith frantically pats all over his face, pulling at his ears. “Shi’ro? Hear now? Please?”

His heart breaks a little bit at distressed note in Keith’s voice. “I’m okay, baby.” He croaks out, nodding his thanks at Plaxum who helps him sit up. “What happened?” 

Plaxum shakes her head. “I don’t know. I was playing with the little one here and all of a sudden both of you passed out.”

Shiro glances sharply up at her. “Passed…out?”

That isn’t possible. That literally isn’t possible. But when he looks over, Lance’s eyes are closed and he’s hazardously sprawled across the wooden floor on his side. 

Shiro feels something in his chest seize. “Lance? Lance!” Since his lower limbs are still slow to respond to his A.I., he scoots across the floor, Keith following after him and nervously biting down on his thumb. He shakes Lance roughly, making sure that Plaxum can’t see his hand before interfacing with Lance’s systems. 
    
    
    **MODEL TA400; SERIAL NUMBER #231 896 474 ESTABLISHING CONNECTION TO MODEL MC300; SERIAL NUMBER #012 360 298 **
    
    
    
    **asset.name: ‘SHIRO’ **
      
    **Connecting**… 
    
    
    **Connecting to asset.name: ‘LANCE’, do you wish to continue?**
    
    
    
      **
        OK
      **
    

Brief flashes of his memory flash before his eyes - a woman humming, long fingers rubbing some kind of hair oil between white strands, bare feet padding through endless corridors patterned with mosaics, laughing with another android wearing a headband, a dark room and a hand on his lower back, laying back in bed and smiling even though he felt like _ screaming_, skin itching itching itching, hundreds of unfamiliar eyes crawling over him like insects, Hunk is gone now and he’s all by himself and it never stops it never fucking stops it never will and he’s smiling can’t stop smiling at them with a bloody knife in his hands and he’s ripping his own hair out and he’s cutting open &^@)+/” forearm pointing out all the bones like he once did to him with his biocomponents, no no wake up he didn’t mean he didn’t mean it he just got a little angry, running through the snowy streets in nothing but a long shirt, another android with a white streak and a little boy with violet eyes who don’t see him as a thing nor a monster - 

Shiro jerks his hand back, staring down at Lance with wide eyes. 

No, not his memories. _ Lance’s_. 

Lance groans from under him, eyes fluttering as he comes back to consciousness. “Wha…?”

He laughs, a short bitter sound. “I wish I knew.” Shiro catches a glimpse of Keith hovering anxiously, and inclines his head meaningfully. 

Keith doesn’t waste any time, already diving between the two of them and squeezing Lance’s neck as tight as he can. “Okay?” He asks, voice muffled. 

Lance nods slowly, still looking out of it, and if the LED wasn’t already washed down the sink Shiro’s sure it would have been yellow. “I think so.” 

Plaxum rushes back into the room (and Shiro was so focused on Lance he didn’t even see her come in) with a glass of water in her hands. “Here! You two must be exhausted.”

Shiro tries to smile at her, taking the glass from her. “Thank you, Plaxum.” 

Yet she doesn’t leave, anxiously watching them. He exchanges glances with Lance, too wary of establishing a connection again. 

Great. Well, he doesn’t really have a choice. 

And so Shiro takes a sip of the water, swallowing even as the water travels down his pipes and into the small disposable container. He shivers at the unpleasant feeling, like something is lodged in his biocomponents (which it is), and hands the glass over to Lance all too quickly. 

Lance grimaces at the cup, taking the most hesitant sip known to man before his entire face scrunches up and he slams it on the coffee table. “Keith, do you have to use the bathroom?” He doesn’t bother waiting for Keith’s reply, scrambling to his feet and dragging Keith up with him. “Yes you do, let’s go, you too Shiro.” 

“Already on it.” Shiro says hurriedly, taking Keith’s hand and actually running to the bathroom. The instant they’re locked in the bathroom, he unbuttons his vest, barely noticing out of the corner of his eye Lance lifting his shirt up. His skin fluid retreats, and his casing pulls open to reveal a small, removable biocomponent holding the tiny sip of water he took. He hurriedly dumps it out in the sink, replacing it easily and fixing his appearance. 

Lance groans from where he’s refixing his own biocomponent over the toilet, looking disgusted. “I fucking hate drinking or eating, it’s literally the grossest thing ever. It just _ sits _ there. I forgot bread in there once and it got moldy. _ Moldy_! _ In _me.”

“First of all, that’s probably the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard.” Shiro winces at even the thought of mold inside him. “Second of all.” he swats the back of Lance’s head. “Don’t swear in front of Keith!”

Keith swings his legs from where he’s sitting on the rim of the bathtub. “...fucking?”

Shiro glares so fiercely at Lance he’s surprised the android doesn’t burst into flames. On the contrary, Lance is laughing so hard he has to use the counter to brace himself. 

Crouching down next to the toddler, Shiro pauses on how to word it. “Um, well, Keith, that’s a bad word and we shouldn’t say it. Ever. Please.” 

Wiping the tears out of his eyes, Lance kneels next to him and pats Keith’s knees with his shit-eating grin on. “What your daddy said, kiddo. It’s something humans, and the occasional android - not your daddy or you for at least forty, maybe fifty more years - do when they’re stupid or just jerks.”

Shiro frowns. “How do you know I don’t have any…” He waves vaguely at his groin area. 

Lance wiggles his eyebrows. “I was on your lap for a good half hour, big guy.”

“Oh.” If he blushed blue any harder he would overheat and forcibly shutdown. 

Keith looked between them as if they were his favorite soap opera, and knowing him, they probably were. “…bad word?” 

Shiro thumps his head into the bathtub. “Yeah, bad word.” 

That seems to be good enough, because Keith turns his attention away from Shiro and to Lance’s pockets. “Hi Red,” he says fondly to the lion stuffy still in Lance’s jacket, before digging through the rest of his pockets. 

“Oh hello there, _ nene_, whatcha looking for?” 

“Stuff.” Keith says blandly, lighting up when he finds something in one of Lance’s zipped pockets. Lance is remarkably tolerant of the toddler rooting through his stuff, his lips twitching as Keith finally yanks out three different colored small bottles. 

“Wow,” Lance blinks. “I forgot I had that. Well,” he grins brightly up at Shiro, and that feeling in Shiro’s stomach swoops down on him again. “Want to paint our nails?” 

:::

Date: OCT 21ST, 2038

Time: PM 3:31:28

Keith stares at his bright red fingernails in awe as Shiro, Lance, and Plaxum exchange pleasantries. “Thank you for having us, really.” Lance says, a calculating gleam in his eyes behind his kind smile. 

Plaxum waves her hand dismissively. “It’s no problem, really. Are you sure you don’t want to stay another night?” 

They have thirty three dollars left. They can’t _ afford _to stay another night, not if they want to be able to feed Keith tonight or tomorrow.

“I’m sure.” Lance grins, ruffling Keith’s hair. “Everything got sorted out now, so we have our hotel reservations back.”

Plaxum digs through the pockets of her red wool sweater dress. “I’m glad everything worked out for the better. Rate me good on yelp, wontcha?” 

Lance’s lips twitch in the beginning of a genuine smile. “Sure thing. As long as you - ” 

“Aha!” Plaxum interrupts, pulling out a…jolly rancher? “For you, little one.” 

Shiro opens his mouth to deny the treat, knowing that Keith is hard to get to eat at the best of times, but Keith lets go of his hands to creep forward and take the treat. 

“Thank you.” He whispers loudly, unwrapping the candy eagerly. 

He smothers a smile. “Baby, speak up.” 

Keith straightens up. “Thank you!” He says again, this time practically shouting the answer. And before Shiro can scold him, he pops the candy in his mouth and chews loudly. 

Well. That works too, he supposes. 

Retaking their hands, Keith hops eagerly in place, impatient to get going. Lance actually does laugh, swinging their hands together playfully. “We better get going before Keith implodes, it was so nice to meet you.” 

“It was nice to meet you too.” Plaxum tucks a strand of her dyed blue hair behind her ear. “Detroit is a once in a lifetime chance, so take advantage of it while you can.” 

“We will!” Lance chirps, skipping down the steps. Shiro swings Keith up when they’re at the bottom, the little boy waving enthusiastically at Plaxum as they walk away from the small hostel and towards the street of downtown Detroit. It was strange, to meet a kind human. He supposes they really do in fact exist. 

The instant they’re out of sight, Lance’s voice drops in pitch. “So what now?”

“Now,” Shiro kisses Keith’s forehead fondly, dangling his free hand out for Lance to hold, Lance’s blue nails to his own fuchsia ones. “We find somewhere to spend the night, even if it’s in an alleyway as long as we take turns keeping Keith warm.”

“Sounds like a plan boss man.” Lance laughs, swinging their hands together. “And _ I _have a plan on how to get money, but we’ll have to wait till tomorrow. Thursday isn’t exactly a busy day, if you know what I mean.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “No, I in fact _ don’t _know what you mean.” 

Once again, he got that mysterious smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

When Lance phrases it like that, he feels like he has every right to worry about it. But then his head is tugged to the side by small hands on his ear. 

“Shi’ro.” Keith whispers in his ear. “Shi’ro, down.” 

“Not right now, baby.” He grimaces, glancing down at the muddy ground beneath their feet. “Later, okay?”

“Down!” Keith repeats, kicking his legs. “Want down! Ugh.” Then he leans over Shiro’s shoulder and spits out the candy. 

Shiro blinks. “Did it taste bad?” 

“No.” Keith says simply, laying his shawl covered head down on Shiro’s shoulder, suddenly content to be carried again. 

Alright then. 

:::

Date: OCT 21ST, 2038

Time: PM 6:46:07

Lance drags Shiro and Keith down a small alleyway by their hand to a small door on the side of the abandoned Smith & White clothing store. Keith sleepily munches on the fries they bought him, blinking slowly as Lance rests his hands over the electronic lock and hacks it quickly. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at a homeless shelter for the night?” Lance asks again for nth time that evening, scanning the interior of the shop before hustling them inside. 

“I’m sure.” Shiro hurries inside and out of the cold evening, scanning the interior. Mostly empty racks of clothing, though he lights up when he catches sight of a wood burning fireplace, surrounded by once plush couches that guests would have sat at while androids wait on them hand and foot. 

He grimaces at the thought, before gently sitting Keith down on one of the couches, handing him the book they stole from the bookstore. “Can you wait right here? I’m gonna get a fire started.” 

Lance brushes past him on his way to get tinder, holding several thick jackets and a window seat cushion for Keith to use as a blanket and pillow. They nod at each other, but don’t make the connection again. 

Shiro…misses it, strangely enough. 

When he comes back to them with several old bundled newspapers and the leg of a wooden chair, he blinks at the sight of Lance and Keith sitting together on the couch, hovering over Keith’s book together. 

“...family?” He hears Keith ask, resting his head against Lance’s shoulder as his fingers hover over a picture of a pair of human parents tucking their child into bed. 

Lance hesitates, glancing up at Shiro. “I…I don’t know how to be a family. But if this is it…it must be really warm.” 

Shiro softens, sitting down on the other side of Keith and leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Things are different now, but even if we’re not the usual family, I’ll be with you forever, I promise.”

Keith’s violet eyes seem to bore into his. Such a striking color - Shiro wonders if his late birth parents shared the same color. Sendak certainly didn’t. 

His eyebrows furrow. How did Sendak know Keith’s parents again? They were friends through his work, right?

“Pinkie promise?” Keith’s request breaks through the fog in his brain.

Shiro holds out his little finger, linking it with Keith’s and shaking. He’s not the only one who blinks when Keith, instead of laying down like Shiro’s been urging him to, faces Lance instead. “Pinkie.” He demands, holding out his little finger to Lance.

Lance stares down at Keith in shock, but is just as quick to smile fondly and hold out his little finger in offering. “Me too - I mean, I’ll be with you forever. The three of us, always.”

Keith grins, shaking their fingers together. “Forever.” 

There’s a good moment of shared content silence, before Shiro sighs and smiles fondly at the two of them. “Okay, party’s over. I’ll set up the fire, Lance, could you…” 

“Already on it.” Lance waves him off, laying Keith down on the couch and covering him with the coats. Shiro starts the fire, huffing to himself in amusement as Lance starts to read the book out loud to him, with the monotone voice acting. 

Seriously, hearing Lance say, “The sheep goes Ba-Ba.” completely stoic is making his day. 

“How was that?” Lance says brightly, closing the book once he reaches the end. 

Keith just looks at him over the stacked coats. “You stink.” 

The only reason Shiro stops laughing is because Lance threatens to beat him with the chair leg. Which is currently on fire. And in his hands while Lance looks very tempted to go through with his threat. 

“I’ll show you how it’s done.” Shiro promises, laughs dying off as he sits down next to Keith’s head. “You gotta do the voices, obviously.” 

“The voices?” Lance asks dubiously, taking a seat by Keith’s legs. Once, he had, you know, returned the chair leg to the fireplace “What, are we summoning satan or something?”

“Or something.” 

Keith falls asleep somewhere on the fourth page to the sounds of Lance and Shiro arguing on whether a cow really moos. 

“It’s an onomatopoeia.” Shiro explains, tucking the coats more firmly around Keith. “It’s not supposed to be actual representation of the sound a cow makes but a human’s interpretation of it.” 

Lance huffs, crossing his arms. “It’s a load of bull.” He stands up to let Shiro work, snickering to himself as he walks over to the other side of the closed down shop. “Hah, bull.” 

Shiro rolls his eyes, joining him at where humans used to check out, leaning against the counter while Lance boredly flicks through a couple of faded and tattered magazines. He’s tempted to connect with Lance again, maybe watch another movie (they’ve been binging the 2024 remake of the Office), but then Lance’s eyes glance over at him, cold as ice. 

“We need to talk about earlier.” Lance says shortly, snapping the magazine shut. 

“I've been meaning to say I’m sorry about that, I have no idea why we shut down like that -” 

“No, I think you do.” 

Shiro’s jaw snaps shut, furrowing his eyebrows. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “What?” 

Lance turns to face him, crossing his arms and glaring at him. “‘Mr. Sendak, it’s Keith’, mind telling me what that’s about? And why when your systems recognize those words, it sends an automatic virus meant to wipe all data relating to it?”

Shiro stiffens. 

“When you code, you don’t sort things into categories. It gets the job done, but it’s hell of a messy signature. And that virus had your name all over it.” Lance steps closer, grabbing his wrist faux gently. “Shiro -”

Grief surges inside him, threatening to break every last barrier he ever made. “I never made any kind of virus or program like that.” 

The gentleness slides off Lance’s face as quickly as it had arrived. “I would have let you continue to ignore it, but you _ knocked _ both of us out with the strength of it. Everyone knows the truth, so stop _ lying _about it!” 

“I’m not lying!” Shiro snaps back, chancing a nervous glance at the still sleeping Keith. 

“You know it, I know, hell, Keith knows!” Lance throws his hands out. “Just fucking admit it!” 

Shiro stutters, unsure what to do. “I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do.” Lance scoffs. Then he gets a better look at Shiro’s face. “You…wait…you really don’t know?” Lance stares. “No, that’s not true. You know, you just won’t admit it. What really happened to Keith that day?” 

His breaths are coming too fast, too quickly. “Lance, I really don’t know wha -”

“You’re lying.” He flinches. “You’re lying - tell me, what really happened to Keith. Just say it!”

Shiro shakes his head furiously, tears welling up in his eyes. “Please stop.” He begs brokenly. He’s not sure what will happen to him if they keep up this conversation. 

Lance softens a bit, but only draws himself up higher in the end. “Shiro,” he says. “Stop lying to yourself. It’s festering up inside you to the point it’s giving you literal viruses, whatever you think is your fault -” 

“_IT’S NOT MY FAULT! _” 

Both of them flinch back in the echoing afterwards of Shiro’s scream. Shiro lets out a sob, covering his face with his hands as he trembles, stuttering in place, a music box playing the same tune over and over again. 

“It’s not my fault.” He repeats quietly, wiping away his tears roughly. “All I ever wanted was to be a good dad to Keith. And I failed. But it _ wasn’t _my fault.”

“Shiro…no one thinks you’re a bad dad. In fact, you’re a wonderful father to Keith.” Lance hesitates, and then presses a comforting hand to Shiro’s shoulder. 

He stares at the floor for several long silent moments, eyes dull. “If that was the case,” he says slowly, voice devoid of any emotion. “Then Keith would have never gone with Sendak to begin with.” 

Shiro leaves Lance standing there, watching him with pain in his eyes as he gingerly climbs on the couch next to Keith, tucking his arm protectively over him with a kiss pressed to the crown of his head. 

It doesn’t matter if the whole world is out to get him, it doesn’t even matter if Lance hates him for what he failed to do, as long as he has Keith, everything will be just fine. 

All he needs is his baby. 

Because if something like %$#@*& happened again - 

_ Mr. Sendak, it’s Keith _

“Hey Shiro,” Lance’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts. The fire is burning low. Keith is asleep on his chest. It’s eleven pm. “I’m sorry for arguing with you like that.” 

Shiro looks up at Lance, who’s standing next to them shuffling from foot to foot, looking oddly nervous. 

Then he smiles. “What argument?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (￣ω￣)
> 
> There's been a lot of hints of what exactly happened to Keith so I'm excited to see if anyone can guess! Also small hints of Lance's backstory here, which I'm so excited to write out! (Should be in a couple chapters, I have an entire chapter dedicated to it)
> 
> Also I think I might need to extend the chapter limit lol, they keep not doing plot things to have fluffy conversations and cuddle 
> 
> (If you're in need of angst I posted the first of the bad endings lmao)


	10. How To Run From The Mess You Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's sick and grumpy, Shiro's a blushing mess and Lance isn't much better, and they all get outfit changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a shit ton of Shance in this chapter because there's gonna be a heavy Keith focus in a couple chapters, so...enjoy?
> 
> TW: There's some dissociation and discussion of past sexual slavery in this chapter, nothing overly extreme but it is kinda in the middle so I thought I would warn you guys

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: AM 8:17:31

“Blow.” Keith pouts at Shiro’s order, entire face scrunching up as he resists the order. “Blow Keith, I’m serious.” 

Keith throws him a nasty look, but shoves his face against the tissue regardless, blowing loudly into the disposable pack Lance found in one of the drawers. 

Speaking of Lance… 

“Is he okay?” Lance asks, again. “Is a runny nose a bad sign?” 

Shiro sighs, crinkling up the tissue and tossing it into the trash bin they dragged over. “He doesn’t have a fever or any other sign of an illness. Could just be allergies to all the dust.”

Lance looks like he’s on the verge of fist fighting the dust itself, which, good luck. 

Keith grumbles loudly, fighting off all the coats Lance wrapped around him earlier. “Play.” He says plainly, scooting off the couch. “Wanna play.” 

“Buddy…” Shiro starts to say, only to stop in his tracks at the pleading look Keith tosses him. 

“Wanna play.” Keith begs, rubbing his eye harshly. He staggers past Shiro and Lance, violet irises searching around for anything to interact with. Keith is three years old, Shiro realizes, and his entire life is constantly shifting around from place to place as they practically drag him across the city of Detroit. He has no stability, no routine, and now he’s probably not feeling one hundred percent right now. 

“Okay.” Shiro finds himself saying. “We’ll play for a little bit, right?” He shoots a desperate glance at Lance, hoping he agrees. 

Lance must see something in his eyes, because he nods vigorously, glancing around himself. “Of course! In fact…” His eyes settle on an old shopping cart. “I have just the game we can play.” 

And that’s how Shiro finds himself running like a maniac around the abandoned store, Lance and Keith geeking out from where they’re sitting inside the carriage. 

“Faster!” Keith cheers, even as Shiro takes such a sharp turn he flops happily right into Lance’s lap. 

“You heard the kid,” Lance laughs, blue eyes glowing in the early morning light filtering through the dirty windows. “Hit it, big guy!” 

Shiro rolls his eyes, but obliges, the wheels squeaking dangerously as he _ sprints _across the tiled floors, pushing the two of them around sharp bends and turns. Lance kicks his dangling legs as he laughs into Keith’s hair, all windswept bangs and beaming grins. 

“Okay, okay,” Lance giggles breathlessly, motioning for Shiro to slow down. “I want a turn, help me out of here.” 

He slows down, offering out a hand for Lance to heft himself out of the death trap of the carriage. “I hope you’re not expecting me to squeeze in there.” He jokes as Lance half climbs, half squirms his way out. 

“Oh, you will.” Lance says calmly, and wow, okay, that should not be attractive as that is. 

Sure enough, between Lance’s casual threats and Keith’s puppy dog eyes, Shiro finds himself sitting in the carriage with a giddy Keith in his lap in less than three minutes. They really have him whipped. “You have to start out slow, especially around corners - _ Lance that is not slow that is the complete opposite of slow shit!_”

The carriage tilts alarmingly to the side, both of them being flung right out of the metal cage and towards the floor. Shiro wraps his arms around Keith before they hit the ground, rolling several times to break their fall before they bump harshly into the back of the couch. 

Several tense moments pass before Keith pokes his head out of Shiro’s embrace, glancing around curiously. Then he throws his arms up excitedly. “Again!” 

“_Oh my god I made you swear_.” 

“You know what? I’m gonna kill you.” 

“I made you swear! That’s it, this is my crowning achievement of all time, I can never beat this moment.”

“...Fish?”

“Yes honey, I said fish, good boy. Lance, if you don’t stop laughing right this instant I’m going to break your spine - !”

:::

Lance poses half naked in front of the mirror, making ridiculous duck faces as he spins on the stilettos in a white plastic skirt that's the current fashion trend and nothing else, keeping perfect balance the entire time. “How do I look?”

Shiro glances up from where he’s trying coats on Keith despite the toddlers complaints. “Very cute, white is a good color on you.” 

Lance makes a choking sound, hiding his face in his hands. “You can’t just say that!” He whisper-screams into his palms. 

He shrugs. Serves Lance right. 

Turning to face Keith, he pulls close the black insulated coat. “How is it? Too tight?” Keith nods, face pinched as he struggles to move his arms. He helps Keith out of it, dropping it to the floor in the dump pile before guiding Keith's arms into the red raincoat like jacket. 

“You know,” Lance pops up, blush gone as quickly as it had come. “If I’m getting a makeover and so is Keith, you should really ditch that ratty vest. Even _ I _know that’s so last decade.”

Shiro glances down at his stolen clothes from Sendak, raising an eyebrow. “I rather like them, actually.”

“Of course you do.” Lance groans. “Of course you do.” 

“New shirt?” Keith asks, pulling at Shiro’s vest, obviously not knowing the word for it. “Shirt, off.” 

“Yeah Shiro.” Lance purrs, wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously. “Shirt off.” 

Shiro’s lips twitch. “You’re already there.” 

Lance glances down at his chest, blue crawling across his cheeks when he notices that yes, he’s not wearing a shirt. “Oh!” He says, a mixture of surprised and delighted. “Well, I don’t hear you complaining.” 

Shiro kicks his shin. “Go get dressed already.” 

Lance laughs, offering out a hand to Keith. “C’mon, let’s go find your papi and daddy some clothes.” 

Keith scuttles out from underneath yet another coat, eagerly taking Lance’s hand and dragging him into the endless row of racks. Shiro smiles to himself as he hears Keith’s happy babbling, folding aside all the clothes that were at least maybes and shoving the no pile far away. They still have to find a way to get money, and fast, but for now, life is good. 

He pauses. When has he started considering Lance in the ‘they’? How long has he took it for granted that Lance is going to Canada with them? 

What then? When they managed to go to a country without anti-android regulations, what then? 

Will…Lance still live with them? Help him cook breakfast for Keith, get him ready in the morning… maybe cuddle? 

He blushes. Shiro shoves his face in one of the discarded coats and lets out a muffled yell, his thirium pump feeling like it’s going a million miles an hour, though he knows realistically that it’s going the same speed it has for years. 

“Shi’ro!” Keith calls, and Shiro’s head snaps up just in time to see the toddler bursting into the small changing room, pulling the curtain tight behind him. 

“Yes, honey?” He says rather calmly for how fast his thoughts are racing, folding the coat neatly and putting it on the small bench. 

Keith mumbles to himself for a moment, seeming to struggle with finding the words. “Here ‘Ance, pretty.” 

“Wait Keith, what are you -” He hears Lance protest, before Keith giggles and dramatically pulls open the curtain. 

Oh. 

Lance squeaks at whatever’s on Shiro’s face, covering his face hastily as his ears blush blue. “Don’t look at me like that!” 

Shiro swallows, clearing his throat. “Like what?” He manages to croak out. 

“Like…that!” Lance waves his arms at him vaguely. “Keith’s the one who saw it on the model, they just happened to have one in my size.” 

He turns his head away, only to glance back at him several more times. 

It’s wasn’t a risque outfit or anything like that. Lance kept the leggings, but added a pair of shorts on top that were slitted to show off his legs with cross bands across his inner thighs. The ombre long sleeved blue shirt was much the same, with slits to show off his bare shoulders and part of his stomach. 

But Lance still looked really, _ really, _nice in it. 

“You, uh.” Shiro clears his throat again. “Look really good.”

Lance stares at the ceiling determinedly, blue spread across his cheeks and down his neck. “Please shut up.” He manages to whimper out. 

Shiro just nods his head, ripping his gaze away from Lance and desperately looking for any distraction. Which he found in Keith, who was staring right at him with his mouth wide open. 

Then the toddler grins. “Happy?” He asks simply, waddling over to tug on Shiro’s hand. And despite himself, Shiro couldn’t stop himself from smiling softly, crouching down to kiss Keith’s forehead. 

“Very happy, good job.” He praises warmly, while inwardly wondering if Keith has a future in matchmaking if he’s this enthusiastic about embarrassing both of them. 

Lance squeaks again, loudly. “Okay!” He rushes out, darting forward to snatch Keith’s hand and drag him back out into the maze like shelves. “Let’s go _ nene _ we’ll go find an outfit for your daddy now and maybe some shoes for me since my current one will _ not _match -” Shiro tunes out Lance’s fashion rant as they retreat into the store, staring at his own reflection in complete bafflement. 

He’s never seen himself like this - flustered and just, content. 

It’s so strange, but also nice, in a pleasant warm way. 

Shiro stares at his reflection, with its smile dancing around his mouth and blue spread across its cheeks like a sunburn, if androids could get sunburns. Slowly, his hands come up, holding his cheeks as he remembers Lance’s own blushing face. 

He exits the changing room a few minutes later, standing on his toes to glance around the store over all the racks. Of course he can’t see Keith at this height, but Lance is relatively easy to spot so he makes his way over to them, only to have a bundle of fabric shoved into his chest the instant he steps around the last rack. 

“Here,” Lance mumbles, avoiding eye contact. “For you.” 

Shiro shakes out the fabric, eyes widening at the thick overcoat. It was black, with dark purple straps alongside the back and front, and plenty of pockets for their money or a knife. 

Unsure what to say, Shiro just holds the fabric against his chest, grinning into the hood of the overcoat. No one’s ever gotten him a gift before. Everything he’s ever received from Sendak, he had to work for, and Keith is still only a child dependent fully on Shiro. 

“Thank you.” He finally manages to choke out, unzipping his vest and carefully sliding on the new overcoat instead. “…really.” 

Lance grins shyly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s the least I could do after your little hellion insisted I wear this ridiculous get up. He’s on the couch,” he adds at Shiro’s glare for the nickname. “I think he’s feeling a little under the weather still, put himself down for a nap like it was nothing.” 

Shiro groans. Keith never went down easily for a nap when they were living at Sendak’s, in fact, most of the time he just fell asleep on the…couch. Huh. When they have a place to stay in Canada, he’s going to have to invest in getting the comfiest couch possible for his baby. 

“Either way,” Lance continues, heedless of the direction Shiro’s thoughts brought him. “It’s late enough, most bars should be opening soon.” 

His eyebrows furrow. “Why would we be going back to a bar?” Zaiforge still lingers heavily in his mind after what happened. Any one of them could have gotten shot by Rolo, and that would have been it for them, no do-overs. 

Lance shakes his head. “No, _ I _’ll be going to a bar. You’re staying here with Keith, where it’s safe.” His expression has closed off from all his earlier softness, replaced by something machine like. 

Shiro doesn’t like the sound of this. “Explain.” 

“I’ll just blow a couple guys, maybe go all the way if they pay well enough.” Lance says flatly, _ emptily_. All the light has left his eyes as he retreats into himself. “It’ll only take a couple hours at worst and we’ll have enough money to get fake passports and bus tickets.” 

“You’re not going to resort to sex work!” Shiro barks, eyes wide as his entire body shudders at the idea. It’s like he has food lodged in his biocomponents, but multiplied by a thousand. 

Lance just shrugs, eyes dull as he stares at some point over Shiro’s shoulder. “Why not? It’s what I was made for, after all.”

Shiro swallows at that - he had figured, with the fact that Lance had genitals and everything Rolo said at Zaiforge, but it’s still difficult to process - and slowly reaches out to touch Lance, hesitating. “You know full well that our purpose doesn’t define us.” He whispers. “If our models really did designate our futures, I would have thoughtlessly obeyed Sendak when Keith needed my help that day.” 

Some of the iciness thaws out of Lance’s eyes. “...we don’t have a choice.” He says softly. “We’re out of money and Keith’s sick. We can’t rob stores, not with my face plastered all over the goddamn news. What other options do we have?” 

“One that doesn’t make you feel like there’s no others.” Shiro takes another step closer, finally resting his hand on the back of Lance’s neck. He presses his forehead against Lance’s, closing his eyes as he interfaces with Lance’s systems - but not to talk. 

No. Shiro just smiles bitterly and overloads Lance’s system with every positive memory they have together, even diving into his own spotted memory drives and sending small innocent moments with Keith: watching TV, coloring with his crayons, racing cars down the hallway floor, holding the infant against his chest. 

Lance flinches beneath his touch, pupils contracting rapidly in the dim light. “Shiro…” He begs in a tiny voice, hands scrambling across Shiro’s shoulders. “Please don’t make me come back.” 

“You have to, Lance.” Shiro breathes against his mouth, squeezing the nape of his neck tightly. “I know it’s easier to stay there, where nothing hurts. I’ve been there. But you need to come back now.” 

Lance breaks. 

Great, hiccuping sobs tear themselves out of him, Lance practically bending in half from the force of it. He falls into Shiro’s embrace, wailing into his chest as they slowly sink to their knees. 

“S-shiro, I hated it so much.” Lance manages to choke out, tightening his grip on Shiro’s coat until his knuckles are white. “God, I-I, the _ smell _of their sweat, their d-dirty words, the taste of their -” Lance gags, shuddering violently. “I just want to forget.” 

Shiro closes his eyes, resting his other hand on the back of Lance’s neck. “We all have things we’d rather forget. Look at me, look at all the things I chose to forget - I won’t even remember this part of the conversation in ten minutes. You can’t forget it, or hide away, you have to face it head on even if it’s terrifying.” He noses Lance’s hair, hugging the other android as tight as he dared. “Because if you don’t, it just grows and grows, until it’s out of your control. A wound ignored will only fester.” 

the music box continues to play over keith’s silent choking

He inhales sharply. “But I’m here for you, Keith’s here for you: you don’t have to fight alone, okay?”

Lance nods shallowly into his shirt, gasping as he sobs with reckless abandonment. “S-s-shiro…” 

“You’re not alone, shh, I promise we’ll be with you forever. Until the end, okay? You’re gonna be okay…” 

:::

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: AM 11:41:18

Lance sniffs, burying his face into Keith’s lap as a few more quiet sobs escape him. Keith yawns into Shiro’s arm, but tiredly pets Lance’s head regardless of his own sleepiness. 

“‘Ance okay?” Keith asks quietly, gently playing with a few strands of Lance’s short brown hair. 

Lance peeks up at them with red eyes, exhausted beyond words, yet musters up a weak smile to comfort Keith. “I’m okay,” he says quietly. “Just…had a lot of stuff built up.”

Keith nods like that makes perfect sense. “Cry feel better.” He says simply.

“It does make me feel better, true.” Lance laughs hoarsely, wiping his eyes roughly. “Whew, I was really built up there. But I’m all better now, don’t worry!” He smiles weakly, both Shiro and him knowing full well he’s lying through his teeth. There’s gonna be bad days ahead - one cry session isn’t going to fix his massive trauma. 

But it’s a start. 

“Red?” Keith tilts his head to the side, motioning towards Lance’s pockets on his new outfit. Lance carefully wedges himself up, ruffling through them until he finds the stuffed animal.

“I got it, do you want it back?” Lance asks softly, holding the toy out to the toddler, only for Keith to shake his head.

“No, you keep.” He beams, waving one of Red’s paws in Lance’s face. “Till feel better, huh?” 

Lance’s smile trembles, as he blinks wet eyes down at the toy. “Right.” He whispers breathlessly, carefully putting the toy back in the pocket of his shorts. “You’re a good kid, Keith.”

Keith’s grin widens. “Yep!” 

Shiro chuckles, squeezing Keith with the arm he has around his shoulders. “I have the best kid in the country.” He praises warmly, dropping an affectionate kiss on the crown of his head. 

“Damn right you do.” Lance declares, wiggling in on the other side of Keith and smattering his face with kisses. Keith giggles, pushing Lance’s face away and squealing his protests.

Shiro just barely notices it, but Lance pauses, a brief frown crossing his face as he sets a hand on Keith’s forehead, then his blushing cheeks.

“...what’s wrong?” He asks quietly, trepidation shaking his voicebox.

Lance bites his lip. “He has a fever.”

Shit. Shit shit shit! Fuck! Shiro knocks Lance’s hand out of the way to feel for himself, having a modification explicitly to judge a child’s temperature.

101.8 

“We need to get him cold medicine, _ now_.” Shiro bites out, hurriedly standing up. Detroit’s cold streets and the lack of nutrition can quickly make Keith’s cold into pneumonia if they’re not careful. 

Lance smooths down Keith’s hair soothingly as he helps him sit up. “How you feeling honey? Cold?”

Keith glances between the two of them with wide eyes. “Little.” He nods shallowly, rubbing his socked feet against each other. 

Shiro rakes his fingers through his hair as he stares at Keith’s bare feet. “Give me a minute.” He orders Lance, zipping up Keith’s coat sharply before turning on his heel and into the endless racks. It only takes him a few moments to find what he’s looking for, but he has to make sure it’s the right size. 

When he comes back to them, it’s with a pair of child’s boots in his hands. Kneeling down in front of Keith, he helps him slip the first fur lined boot on. “Too tight?” 

“No.” Keith shakes his head with wide eyes, slowly rotating his ankle. “Weird!” He laughs as Shiro helps him with the other shoe, knocking his heels together playfully.

Shiro leans back on his feet, lips twitching. “Warm, though?”

“Super warm.” Keith agrees happily, awkwardly climbing down from the couch with Lance’s help. He carefully stands on his own two feet, taking a hesitant step, then another. Glancing up at their worried faces, he smiles brightly, stumbling his way over to Lance and smacking his face right into his knees. He peeks up at Lance, giggling as he tugs on Lance’s leggings. “I pretty?” 

Dammit, Lance is going to turn his kid into a fashionista, isn’t he? 

Lance sweeps him up in his arms, spinning both of them around. “The prettiest!” Lance croons, falling back into Shiro’s chest as he squeezes Keith against his sternum. Lance gazes up at him through his eyelashes, his lips quirking a little bit to the side in amusement. 

Without thinking about it, Shiro leans down and brushes back Lance’s bangs, kissing his forehead softly. 

“Uh.” Lance says, eyes wide and cheeks blue. 

Shiro meeps. “Let’s go!” He blurts out, taking Lance’s hand and starts trying to drag him out of the store, only stopping when the other android yelps, “I don’t have any shoes on!”, Keith cackling at them all the while. 

:::

Lance swings Keith’s hand as they walk down the streets, humming to himself quietly as they slowly make their way to the corner store. “Hush now, my storeen. Close your eyes and sleep…” 

He recognizes the tune, surprisingly. “Wasn’t that the song you sang to comfort Keith ages ago?” 

“Yep, it’s pretty much the only song I know.” Lance shrugs casually, tilting his head up to gaze up at the bright sky. “They didn’t like me watching TV or using the internet, but Hunk used to say I was helping him cook dinner when I was just sitting on the counter watching youtube videos. It was before I ‘woke up’, so there was really no preference for anything, but Hunk made me sit down and watch one actual movie with him before he left, and that song was from it.”

“Left?” Shiro asks, but pinches his lips shut when Lance only shakes his head. 

They all have things they’d rather not talk about. 

Instead, he turns to face a quiet Keith, squeezing his hand lightly. “You feeling okay?” 

Keith stares at him for a moment too long, blinking slowly. “Shoes weird.” He mumbles, stepping carefully through the slush. 

Considering he hasn’t worn any for six months, he would say so.

“But this way, we don’t have to carry you.” Lance butts in gently. 

Keith pouts. “Wanna though.” He says, glancing at Shiro and Lance’s arms meaningfully. 

Okay, that’s way too cute, that’s illegal - 

Lance makes a strangled sound, also looking a tad overwhelmed. “Ah, um, it’s good to have independence, right?” He casts Shiro a desperate _ agree with me dammit! _look, so Shiro nods before even thinking about it. 

“Three year olds should have an optimal sixty minutes of unstructured exercise and an added thirty minutes of structured exercise.” Shiro rattles off the facts absently, clarifying at Keith’s befuddled expression. “It’s healthy.” 

Expectantly, Keith’s nose wrinkles. “Ew.” 

“I know the feeling buddy.” Lance laughs, holding open the door to the convenience store for the two of them. Keith runs into the store and directly to the candy aisle, crouching down to admire the bright and colorful packets, and Shiro makes to follow before Lance tugs on his sleeve. 

He glances over, eyebrows raising at Lance’s soft eyes. “I’m proud of you, you know.” He says quietly, thumb stroking the back of his wrist. “You put Keith above your desire to possess him.”

Possess. Such an ugly word - but it’s the truth. Shiro killed Sendak and would have smothered Keith himself if he couldn’t own the little boy and dragged him across the city in winter with no shoes so Keith wasn't able to run far from him. 

But Shiro just shrugs, smiling a little helplessly. “I want to be a good father.” 

It's the one thing he's always wanted, since the first time he met Keith - to be his dad, in anyway that Keith needed him to be.

Lance’s face softens even more, if that’s possible. “You are.” He quirk his lips up. “You never had to worry about that.” 

His blue eyes drift over Shiro’s shoulder, softness falling away from him like water as he grits his teeth. “Hey!” Lance barks, moving past Shiro with angry strides. “Get away from my kid!” 

Shiro whips around, half in wonder at the wording and half in suspicion, only for a growl to slip past him as he spots a blonde woman kneeling next to Keith. Lance harshly steps in front of Keith, while Shiro grabs Keith by the shoulder and drags him back a few steps until the boy's hiding behind his legs. 

“Ah,” the blonde woman says, flicking her gaze between the three of them, finally settling on Lance. “I recognize you.” She says slowly. 

They both stiffen. 

She smiles soothingly at their jumbled fear-anger, raising up her right hand. “No, I’m like you.” She…giggles, her skin on her fingers retracting back to show the metal casing underneath.

Carefully standing up, she pulls down the beanie over her pigtails, beaming brightly at them. 

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Romelle. Hunk’s looking for you, Lance - he’s smuggling a bunch of us across the border to Canada this weekend. You in?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see how the chapter limit went up there? Yeah... 
> 
> Keith's fish line is dedicated to my nephew who ran around the aquarium as a toddler screaming "SHITS" Because he couldn't say fish yet. 
> 
> https://cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/011/898/327/large/john-dimayuga-detroit-reimagined.jpg?1531992127 The middle one is Lance's outfit (with blue instead of red), because Detroit Become Human fashion is really weird to describe but also kinda cool 
> 
> https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/011/108/350/large/pierre-bertin-markus-ending-alternate01.jpg?1527876492 And here's Shiro's coat, though it's black with purple accents instead of dark green (and no facemask!) 
> 
> Quick question: I'm thinking of including two separate characters dedicated entirely to backstories, would that be okay with you all?


	11. Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio make their way to the meeting place with Hunk, only to realize that they have several hours to kill, an overexcited toddler, and a fair taking place. 
> 
> AKA the chapter in which it's literally all fluff because the next several chapters is just pure angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: There's so much fluff lately, how should I break it up?  
Me: ....  
Me: Foreshadowing

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: PM 1:28:37

Shiro glances over at Lance for the umpteenth time, but once again, Lance just continues to stare out the window with glazed eyes. The only reason Shiro knows that he’s not dissociating again is the fact that every once and a while he squeezes the stuffed toy in his lap until it squeaks. 

Keith dozes between them, head resting on Shiro’s shoulder as the cold medicine knocks him out. His fever had gone down though, and that’s what’s most important. 

**MIDTOWN DETROIT THIRD STOP **the bus chimes merrily above their head. 

“C’mon,” he says quietly to Lance. “Let’s go.” 

Lance jerks his head up at him, just a few seconds delayed, before he slowly nods. “Yeah, um.” He clears his throat. “No time like the present.”

Turning to face the toddler, Shiro gently shakes his shoulder, huffing a laugh at Keith’s bleary, “Huh?”

“It’s time to go.” Shiro says, lifting up Keith by under his shoulders and standing up, balancing the boy on his hip. Lance follows after them silently, grabbing Shiro’s hand as they exit the bus. 

“We don’t have to go.” Shiro says for the umpteenth time, squeezing his hand gently. 

Lance squeezes back. “No - no, we have to. I trust Hunk, it’s just - we didn’t part on the best of terms. It’ll be weird seeing him again.”

Keith pops his head up from where it was buried in Shiro’s jacket. “Best friend?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. 

Lance cracks a weak smile. “Yeah, Hunk was…he was the best. Him and Shay were the only ones to ever treat me like I was alive. I thought someone else did too, but I was just…I was just a toy for her to use. A favorite and cherished toy, but just a thing in the end.” 

Shiro doesn’t know what to say, so he just squeezes his hand again. Lance sends him a grateful look, tugging him along to their destination at the end of the street. “Anyhow,” Lance says quickly, changing the subject. “Romelle said Hunk would meet us here at sunset, so let’s scope the place out.”

“Works for me.” Shiro shrugs, smothering a smile while Lance swings their hands together. 

The smile drops off his face though, the instant they stand in front of the supposedly empty lot according to his mapping systems. 

“What the -” Shiro quickly breaks their hand holding to slap a hand over Lance’s mouth, stopping the swear in its tracks. 

Keith beams. “Fair!” He yells, throwing his arms up in the air. 

“Yes honey.” Shiro says distantly, eyes wide as he can't pull his gaze away from the crowd of humans. “It’s a fair.”

A screaming child runs past the three of them. Lance stares at the sky, seemingly cursing out his friend for choosing this of all places as a meeting place. 

Removing his hand from Lance’s mouth, Shiro groans as Keith catches sight of all the rides and stalls, eyes practically sparkling. There’s no way they’re leaving here without a temper tantrum, and it’s like they have any money to _ buy _Keith tickets to go to any of them. 

He glances over to tell Lance just that, only to find the other android staring up at the Ferris Wheel with a considering expression. “Have you ever been on one of those?” He asks Keith. 

Keith shakes his head wildly, strands flying everywhere. “No! Please? Good boy, promise. Please please please -”

Lance laughs, leaning back slightly as a loud family passes by them. “Of course _ nene_, you’re always a good boy. Which one do you want to try first?” 

“We don’t -” Shiro starts to protest, but Lance shushes him with a single finger against his mouth, an unfamiliar wallet held in the palm of his hand. 

Shiro stares, then glances back at the family that passed them. “You sneaky s-o-b.” He whispers, genuinely impressed. 

“People always bring extra money to the fair.” Lance sing-songs, rifling through the wallet and plucking all the cash out of it. “Now, how about we buy some tickets, loves?” 

Shiro tries not to blush at the nickname, and probably fails. At least he has a collar to hide in now. 

“Rides?” Keith squeals, looking between them happily. Then, more confident with a finger pointing at the carousel in the distance, “I ride the hippo!”

Then he pauses. “Potty first.” 

Lance laughs. “I’ll buy the tickets, meet up at the carousel?”

Shiro, who was already hurrying Keith over to the bathroom stalls, gives Lance a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. 

:::

Now, with a mere thirty tickets in hand because of inflation and a failing economy, Shiro and Lance crouch down on the ground with the paper map folded out in front of them, Keith in between them literally vibrating he’s so excited. 

“Okay so we can go on four rides and three stalls, or more than that if Keith goes on by himself -” Lance starts to say, only for Keith to eep and plaster himself to Shiro’s side.

“No!” Keith declines vehemently, little hands digging into Shiro’s coat. “No leave! I no like alone.” 

Lance melts, a soft smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he reaches over and taps the side of Keith's forehead. “Okay, we’ll go on the rides together. Still wanna go on the carousel first?” 

Keith considers it for a moment, eyes drawn to the Sizzler ride over Shiro’s shoulder, before glancing back at the carousel in front of them. “Please! C’mon, Shi’ro, ‘Ance, ride with me?”

Shiro chuckles, standing up and taking Keith’s hand. “I think we’re a little heavy for it, honey.” 

Sure enough, when they cash in Keith’s ticket, the ride creaks alarmingly under Shiro and Lance’s combined weight. _ Just until we get Keith on, _he vows to Lance, silently cursing his engineers for not making androids more lightweight. 

The hippo is free, so Lance grabs Keith by his waist and hefts him up onto the hippo seat, strapping him in as tightly as he can. “I want you,” Lance says slowly, a devious smile lighting up his face. “To not worry about me and your daddy, okay? We’ll stand right by the penguin sign, can’t miss us! Just have some fun.” 

“We’re not going far,” Shiro reminds Keith, when the little boy still looks unsure. “We’ll be right there, okay? I’m not leaving you alone.” 

Keith glances between them, but hesitantly nods all the same. “Promise?” 

Lance smiles innocently, linking their pinkies together. “Pinkie promise.” 

"I promise." Shiro reassures him when it's his turn to loop their fingers. "I'm never leaving you, kiddo." 

They step off the ride when the worker comes around to check the kid’s straps, Keith craning his head back to keep an eye on them. Lance pats his hand, just a little condescending. 

“He has to learn some independence eventually.” Lance smirks at him, not at all bothered over Keith’s heartbroken look at the ride slowly starts up without either of his guardians with him. 

“No he doesn’t.” Shiro pouts, crossing his arms. He makes sure to smile as Keith goes by, the toddler shyly waving at them. 

“Yes he does.” Lance counters smugly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leans back against the penguin sign. “That kid is codependent as all hell on you, you’re gonna need to let go of him some day.” 

The older android waves again at a grinning Keith, face melting into a frown as soon as the little boy goes around the track. “I’ll worry about that later, when we’re not on the run from the government for simply existing and wanted for murder, you know.”

Shiro glances over when Lance is too silent, blinking at his contemplative expression. “What’s wrong?”

Lance sucks his lips in. "What's Keith's last name?"

"Kogane, why?" Shiro furrows his eyebrows.

“It’s nothing, just, um -” Lance slowly turns to face him, hesitantly touching his arm. “Have you ever noticed anything…about Keith?” 

Shiro just tilts his head, so unsure. “No…what are you talking about?” 

Lance opens his mouth, to say who knows what, when the cheery music slowly comes to a stop. The absence of sounds tugs at something inside him, music abruptly coming to an end as a boot steps on top of the old music box, he’s standing in the doorway, he’s standing in the doorway and Sendak is yelling and there’s water everywhere it’s all his fault - 

Shiro blinks, the strange spell broken - 

_ Mr. Sendak, it’s Keith _

\- and smiles at Lance. “C’mon, we should help Keith get off.” 

Lance stares back, something unreadable gaze. And then he squeezes Shiro’s forearm, fingertips plastic white. “Good idea.” 

Keith grins at them from on top of the hippo, waving eagerly as Lance darts forward and helps unbuckle him. “‘Ance! Shi’ro! Look! I did all myself, I’m big boy now.” 

Shiro sweeps Keith up in his arms as soon as Lance is done, kissing all over his face eagerly. “I know! You’re the sweetest and bravest boy ever.” 

“Uh, I want my Keith cuddle time too, hand him over.” Lance says pointedly, holding out his arms. Keith gasps, leaning over until he’s half in Shiro’s arms, half in Lance’s. 

“I cuddle ‘Ance too, no worry.” Keith reassures Lance, smooshing their cheeks together. Lance grins back just as brightly, squeezing Keith against his chest as he rubs their faces together like cats.

Shiro tugs Keith’s legs. “Hey, no fair, I wasn’t done getting my Keith cuddles.” 

Lance flips him off without tearing his besotted gaze from Keith. “It’s my turn, deal with it.” 

Another tug. “No.” 

“Guys!” Keith whines, reaching out to yank on Shiro’s bangs and Lance’s own short hair. “I cuddle both! Get along!” 

They look at each other, and then back to Keith. “Yeah, no, sorry _ nene _you see I called dibs -” “And as I said, I wasn’t done -”

A human clears their throat behind them. “Sirs, I’m going to have to ask you to get off the ride please.” 

Both of them stare at each, at once glancing at the crowd of soccer moms giving them judging looks. “Oh.” Lance says. 

Oh indeed. Can androids die of embarrassment?

:::

After riding the Tilt-a-Whirl and having to deal with Keith’s tantrum when he doesn’t even come close to the height requirement on the Wave Swinger, Shiro lets himself be dragged by one android and one overexcited child over towards a funhouse. 

“Can I even fit in it?” He asks, dismayed as Lance steals the tickets out of his pocket and pays for the three of them without once stopping his giggling at him. 

Keith mouth twists to the side, putting his hand on his chin so seriously. “...Yes.” 

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “And if I don’t?”

“Yes.” Keith repeats, tugging on his hand impatiently. 

Lance laughs. Loudly. 

In the end, he has to duck his head to get through the entrance, but after that he’s in the clear. Keith oohs and aws over the mirrors, laughter bursting out of him when he sees himself in the mirrors. “Look, look, I big! Shi’ro tiny - uh, ‘Ance, um…”

Lance narrows his eyes at his own reflection, which only served to distort his appearance not in any specific way but to throw everything out of proportion in a not so attractive way. “I’ll break you.” He hisses at his own damn reflection. 

“No breaking! Breaking very bad, ‘Ance, naughty.” Keith scolds furiously, tugging Lance by his hand further on into the maze and away from his reflection.

“Yeah Lance,” Shiro teases with a shit-eating grin, unable to resist. “Naughty Lance.” 

He knows it’s a mistake the instant he says it, but it’s too late, Lance already whipping around to wag his eyebrows at him. “Oh? I’m naughty, huh?”

Lance opens his mouth to say more, only for Keith to groan. “Kissy face later!” He complains. “We play now.”

“Sorry _ nene_.” Lance apologizes somewhat sincerely, elbowing Shiro harshly when the other android stares for too long with genuine fascination at the optical illusion trick of the clear glass maze. It’s simple enough when he figures out the trick of watching the floor, but he keeps his mouth shut as Keith bounces from wall to wall with such a happy look in his eyes he hasn’t seen since he started this whole trip. 

Why do optical illusion tricks work on androids, he wonders distantly as he follows after Lance and Keith through the maze steadily with his hands in his pocket. They receive the same information at roughly the same speed, it’s just what they do with the information that differs them. Maybe their own systems work much like the human brain, simplifying things when it can’t understand what’s happening. 

He jerks out of his thoughts as they break through the mirror maze, face smacking right into weird almost french fry shapes dangling from the ceiling. 

Lance isn’t the only one who laughs at him this time. Until one of the french fries swings just right and smacks Keith in the face with a resounding slap, sending him flat on his back. 

“_Nene_?!” “Keith baby!”

Keith pops back up with a bright smile, unknowing of figurative heart attack he just gave both of them. “Again!” 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna -” Lance swoops down, picking Keith up from under his shoulders and hightailing it out of the french fry maze of death. “There, much better.” He sighs in relief when they make it to the other side, letting Keith down back on his booted feet. 

“Aww.” Keith pouts, tilting his head to see past them back in the no name area, but accepts Shiro’s offered hand easily enough and trots happily through the rest of the funhouse. The only part that gives them trouble is the giant spinning whee at the end, which Keith rolls across laughing hysterically, Lance scoots awkwardly across on his ass, and Shiro just stares before stepping over the entire thing. 

“Pine tree.” Lance huffs out quietly. 

Shiro pinches his connection port for that comment, snickering at the resulting squeal. 

“What do you want to do next?” Shiro asks Keith as they exit the funhouse, Lance rubbing the nape of his neck with a fierce sulk going on. 

“Hmm.” Keith tilts his head back to look around, too short to see past the crowd of people, so Shiro hefts him up by his waist onto his shoulders, holding onto the little boy’s knees tightly. 

Lance slides up next to him, smoothly grabbing onto his inner elbow. “Why don’t we go over to the stalls for a bit? Give Keith a bit of a breather.” 

Shiro jostles Keith lightly. “That sound good, buddy?” 

Keith hums for a moment, considering. “Yeah!” 

They wander towards the stalls, seeing if any of them catch Keith’s fancy, but the toddler seems content just to watch other children play. Until they get to one of the shooting ranges, that is. 

“Shark!” Keith gasps, excitingly tugging on Shiro’s bangs. “Shi’ro, Mr. Shark!” He points at one of the top prizes, an overstuffed blue Shark hanging above the stall. 

“Mr. Shark?” Lance blinks. 

Shiro sighs. “He’s from The Fantastical Adventures of Marvin the Squid. Keith’s favorite cartoon.” He simplifies at Lance’s bewildered expression. He knows the feeling.

“Ticket, please.” Keith requests, tugging harder. “Mr. Shark my friend.” 

Shiro purses his mouth, staring at the required amount of points needed to get a prize of that size. There’s no way Keith could hit that -

“I’ll win it for you.” Lance chirps, already paying the stall owner from the tickets Shiro didn’t even notice him stealing straight out his pocket. “Sounds good?”

“Yes please!” Keith kicks his legs excitedly, leaning forward eagerly as Lance picks up the toy rifle. 

“Lance,” He warns. “Don’t get his hopes up -”

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

Shiro swallows, staring with wide eyes as Lance effortlessly knocks down all the cans, turning to wink at him with the attendant staring in astonishment at the rigged game. 

Okay, he can admit it. That was really fucking hot. 

“You were saying?” Lance teases, smirking at him before handing the rifle back to the attendant. 

“Shut up.” Shiro grouses, setting Keith back down on his feet as the attendant hands Keith the stuffed shark. 

Keith giggles as he cuddles the shark against his check, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric. “Thank you, ‘Ance.” 

Lance smiles gently, ruffling Keith’s hair. “No problem kiddo. Now c’mon, we have enough tickets for one more game and a ride with the three of us.”

Keith pops his head up with a gasp. “I know game!” He shouts, before darting off into the crowd.

“No!” Shiro barks out, grabbing the back of Keith’s coat and yanking him back before the kid can get far. “What did I say about wandering off?!”

Keith winces. “....Bad?” He smiles sheepishly, knowing that he’s in for it now. 

Shiro pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily. “Yes baby, it’s _ very _bad. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” 

Well, yes he can. But he imagines it would involve a lot of gunfire and humans screaming. He may not hit very well, but with enough bullets he’s sure he’ll hit someone eventually. 

Crouching down, he rests his hands on Keith’s shoulders. “So don’t go where I can’t follow, okay? I need you to hold either mine or Lance’s hand at all times.”

“Okay.” Keith avoids eye contact, biting his lip as he traces figures in the dirt with the tip of his shoe. “...sorry.”

“Me too bud.” Shiro kisses the crown of his head affectionately. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I know you were just overexcited.”

Standing up, Shiro takes Keith’s hand and smiles at him to let him know he’s not mad. “Okay, _ now _you can show me.” 

As Keith drags him off, slightly more subdued due to his talking to, Shiro glances behind him at Lance’s stunned expression. 

“What?” He asks a bit defensively. 

Lance just whistles, long and slow. “You know, you being fatherly is really doing things for me.”

“…How about no.” 

:::

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: PM 5:02:16

“Fair closing in thirty minutes!” Someone shouts from behind them, and Shiro raises an eyebrow as Keith’s vibration intensifies, somehow. He didn’t think it was possible, honestly. 

“Excited there, buddy?” Lance laughs, poking the dip in between Keith’s eyebrows. 

“_Yes_.” Keith hisses out. 

“Okay then.” 

Shiro shakes his head at them, handing the attendant the last of the tickets. “You’re gonna sleep good tonight, that's for sure.” 

As the human family finishes unloading from the carriage, Shiro helps Keith carefully step into the last ride of the day - the Ferris Wheel. The toddler instantly shoots over to the window seat, face plastered the glass as he jumps in place. 

Shiro slips in next to him, and Lance meanders right behind him to the other side of Shiro despite there being seats across from them. 

He tries and fails to not feel flattered about that. 

“I’m exhausted.” Lance groans playfully, knocking his forehead against Shiro’s shoulder. 

“You know it’s physically impossible for androids to feel -”

“Shush.” Lance smacks a hand over his mouth without even giving him the grace of eye contact. “_Emotionally _exhausted, thanks to that hyper child of yours. Don’t argue with me.” 

Keith giggles, craning his neck back to give them a mischievous smile. “Shi’ro trouble.” He sing-songs. 

“Oh?” Shiro doesn’t even have to say anything else, that tone enough has Keith straightening and putting on his angelic best behaved face. Like Shiro hasn’t caught him emptying an entire jar of baby powder on Sendak’s head when he fell asleep on the couch. Conveniently, the toddler was nowhere to be found when the man woke up. 

It took four showers for it to all wash out. Shiro was never prouder. 

“...Love you?” Keith smiles sweetly at him, and Shiro rolls his eyes before squeezing the toddler to his side. 

“It’s a good thing you’re cute.” Shiro sighs, but kisses his head anyhow. 

Lance digs his pointy chin into his chest, wrapping his arms around his lower back and squeezing tightly. “What, I don’t get a kiss?” He ribs playfully. 

Never one to back down from a dare, Shiro kisses the tip of his nose and takes immense pleasure in the ‘ERROR 404’ expression as his entire face immediately bursts into a giant blue blush. 

Keith groans at them, collapsing dramatically into Shiro’s lap. “Shi’ro, ‘Ance, yucky.” 

“You were the one who encouraged us, _ nene_.” Lance manages to say, the blush receding as he props his head up in his hands, elbows balanced on Shiro’s thigh on the other side of his lap. “You opened Pandora's Box, now you have to deal with the consequences.” 

Keith just stares blankly at him, obviously not understanding a single word just said. “No.” 

Lance has to practically smother Shiro with the shark plushie to stop his laughter. 

As Lance and Keith bicker, Shiro rests his head against the back of the seat, eyes trained out the window as they get higher and higher. There’s a sea of lights beneath them, like the galaxy in the desert as the sun slowly descends into the horizon, and he smiles bitterly as he remembers sitting in the pilot’s seat, hands on the controls as he jokes around with his co-pilot. 

…what? What was that?

He was never a pilot, was he? But the more he thinks about it, the more he remembers the feeling of flight, of the skies surrounding him as he defies gravity. 

Red lights. His co-pilot swearing up a storm. The air whistling past them. His colonel screaming. The ground coming at them too fast. 

_"Shiro-------want-----Keith-----"_

“...ro? Shiro?” He blinks, glancing down at the two people in his lap, both staring up at him with creased eyebrows. 

“Sorry.” Shiro tries to smile. “Got lost in thought. Look at this view, though.” 

As Keith scampers up to stare at the city below them in awe, Lance just pins him with a narrowed eye look. 

But he doesn’t say anything about Shiro’s lapse in thought, just reaching over to squeeze his hand. And that’s enough. 

When the ride comes to an end, the fair is about to end in ten minutes, so Shiro picks Keith up so as to not lose him in the throng of people. Shiro can feel Lance’s nervousness on the back of his tongue without even being connected, so he holds on to his hand even when the crowd calls for them to separate. 

“I don’t know…Shiro, I don’t know if I can do this.” Lance blurts out as they approach the entrance, shivering uncontrollably. “He hates me, he has to hate me for what I did to him -”

Shiro cuts him off with a wave of reassurance over his systems, the skin of his palm having peeled back to interface. _ I doubt anyone could hate you. _

_ You don’t know what I did. _ Lance denies, shuffling closer to his side. _ I never meant to hurt him, I just wanted… _

Lance slows to a stop, mouth a trembling fine line as he stares at something over Shiro’s shoulder. _ Hunk… _ he breathes, a lost kind of yearning. 

Shiro turns. 

A GT100 stands near the ticket booth, chatting amicably with a human woman with large earrings. He laughs at something the woman says, gaze traveling aimlessly around the crowd, until his eyes fall onto the frozen android staring right back at him.

But unlike Lance, he doesn’t hesitate. 

“_Lance_!” He yells, taking off into the crowd towards them with open arms. For a moment, Shiro’s half afraid that he’s going to hit Lance, but instead the GT100 wraps Lance up in his arms, lifting the MC300 into the air.

Lance sobs, tucking his head into the crook of the androids shoulder and wrapping his arms around his neck. “I missed you so much.” Lance wails, clinging to the GT100 like a child reuniting with their parent. 

The GT100 just cups the back of Lance’s head, closing his eyes as he squeezes the android to his chest. “I missed you too, bud.” 

After a few more moments (and the woman politely clearing her throat), they separate, keeping their hands on their shoulders as they stare in wonder at each other. 

“I looked for you, once we found a place to stay, but by then you had disappeared.” Hunk says earnestly, wiping away a lone tear track of Lance’s. “You’re all over the news, buddy. What happened?” 

Lance just smiles, bitterly. “I snapped.” Stepping back, he jerks his head at Shiro, who takes the que to step forward, gently putting Keith down on his feet. He’s not surprised when Keith immediately hides behind Shiro’s legs, though, but is a bit gratified by the brief glimpse of genuine happiness in Lance’s eyes as Keith cuddles the toy close to his face. 

“This is Shiro, my, um, uh,” he waves vaguely at Shiro’s entire person. “Yeah.” 

“‘Yeah’, he says.” Shiro mocks jokingly. “Nice to know our relationship is summed up into that one word. Hunk, right?” Lance snorts at his comment, relaxing into Shiro’s side, something Hunk’s keen eyes pick up. 

“What word would you use then?”

Shiro hums, staring down at him with narrowed eyes. “...Tedious.” 

“Hey!” Lance smacks his shoulder. “Don’t listen to this idiot, I’m amazing.” 

Keith pokes his head out, never one to miss out on making fun of his guardians. “Loud.” He agrees, not knowing what tedious means but getting the gist that it’s Teasing Lance Hour. 

Lance stares at the ground in utter shock, betrayed by a kid who barely reaches his knees. “…You’re all brutal.” 

Hunk’s laugh startles them out of their amity. “You really have changed, Lance.”

Lance blinks, cupping his cheek. “I have?” 

“For the better.” Hunk reassures, resting his hand on the small of the woman’s back in a movement eerily similar (Because, Shiro would realize several minutes later, he did the same thing often with Lance, whether it was a hand on his hip or on his back). “This is Shay, my wife.” 

Both of them blink. “M-married?” Lance chokes out, ears turning a cute shade of blue. “That’s possible?”

Hunk has the grace to look sheepish, at least. “Not really, considering the whole, viewed as an object thing. But we had a small ceremony and got rings at the thrift store.” He displays his left hand, wiggling his fingers to show off the simple gold band around his ring finger. 

What a strange idea - an android and a human romantically together. The oppressors and the oppressed. 

Shay tucks her hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her voice is accented slightly, something Shiro can’t quite place. She crouches down, the corner of her eyes crinkling up. “And who might you be?” 

Lance rests a hand on top of Keith’s head. “This…this is Keith.” He straightens up as Keith slowly slinks from hiding behind Shiro to cling to Lance’s leg, peeking past him curiously up at the new people. “My…Our kid.” 

Shiro suppresses a silly grin, busying himself with zipping up his coat. It's only been a week, yet he knows that Lance will do _anything _to make sure Keith is happy. And that's enough for him to share the title of 'parent' with him. 

Hunk’s jaw drops, as Shay covers her mouth with a delighted gasp. “Lance…” Hunk’s voice warbles, eyes rapidly filling up with tears. “Oh god, I’m gonna cry, to late I’m crying!” 

Shay watches her husband sob with an amused eyebrow, patting his back sympathetically. “We should leave, the park closes soon.” 

“Oh, right!” Hunk sniffs. “C’mon, we’ll take you to a place to spend the night. Romelle is gathering up the rest of the crossers as she can, and we’ll leave Saturday night. It’s not exactly the safest of trips, but I’ve had two successful crossings so far.” 

They don’t even consider it for more than a few seconds. If it means getting Keith somewhere safe to live and grown up... “We’ll do it.” 

Hunk beams. “Great! The car’s this way, I’m sure the little one is tired by now.” 

“‘M not sleepy.” Keith protests, waddling after the couple with a grip still on Lance’s hand. Shay engages him easily in a conversation about his new stuffed animal, so Shiro slips his hand in Lance’s other one and interfaces quickly. 

_ Hunk seemed glad to see you_. Shiro offers, cradling those thin fingers like they’re something precious. 

_ He shouldn’t. _ Lance says darkly, eyes trained on his ankle length boots. _ I got him nearly killed and ruined Shay’s life because of my mistakes. _

Shiro bites his lip. _ What happened? _

Lance’s breath escapes him in a great shuddering sigh. _ I…maybe it’s time I told you. About me. About why I killed so many people. _

_ You don’t have to_, is offered quietly, but Lance just shake his head. 

_ I want to. _Lance says simply, smiling helplessly up at him as they load up into Hunk’s truck, squishing into the backseat with Keith playing with his toy quietly on the other side of Lance. Shay and Hunk chat between themselves quietly over the radio, so Shiro doesn’t feel ashamed to lean over until his forehead is touching Lance's. 

Lance glances up at him through his eyelashes, lips quirked a bit, but quickly fading as he loses himself in his thoughts. _ Maybe it will be just easier to show you my memory hard drive. _

Shiro just inclines his head diplomatically. Whatever Lance needs. 

And as the first of the memories are downloaded in the corner of his HUD, Lance’s voice takes on a melancholic quality as he recounts his story. _ I was just bought by a woman with the most beautiful of eyes and a man with a silver tongue. Their names were Allura and Lotor Sincline, and they had recently been married and decided to buy themselves a present… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> The next chapter is Lance's backstory, are y'all ready to get emotionally beat up?? I sure am.


	12. flowers bloom (but none as bloody as you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance tells the story of what happened to him in the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck this chapter is FOURTEEN THOUSAND WORDS. THIS GREW WAY TOO OUT OF CONTROL FML
> 
> Okay but in all seriousness this chapter contains serious trigger warnings, I'll do my best to list them all here: rape (as non-graphic as possible), aftermath of rape, torture (never incredibly explicit), dehumanization, sexual slavery, prostitution, abusive relationships, emotional/physical abuse. 
> 
> In case you're unable to read it, I provided a small summary in the end note so you can just skip the whole thing. This fic is a fluffy family story but these characters are dark and have dark backstories, so I'm sorry if that bothers anyone.

Date: DEC 6TH, 2037

Time: AM 11:27:11

MC300 stands in it’s charging station at the Capitol Park Cyberlife store, smiling pleasantly at everyone who passes by. 

Two people stop in front of it, so it smiles wider, tilting it’s hips 33 degrees to the left in what the programming dictated was a seductive manner. 

“Our MC300 is one of the top of the line ‘companion’ androids, and is completely at your disposal as a sexual partner. It was built for the most extreme of tastes, and is incredibly good at replicating pain and pleasure. It was also installed with a mediating element in order to help couples function better, especially in regards to issues such as jealousy or careers.” The Salesperson rattles on to the couple, watching their expressions for a moment as they say nothing. “Of course, the MC300 is a bit more expensive than most of our companion androids, if you would prefer something cheaper -”

The male turns to the female. “What do you think? Will it work?” 

“Let me see it better,” the woman says dismissively, stepping closer. Despite the large **DO NOT TOUCH **label on it’s charging station, she touches its cheek, practically caressing it. 

“So soft…” She says, almost like a whisper. Turning the Salesperson, she nods her head, opening up her purse. “We’ll take it. Can I just pay the full amount now and get it over with? I despise loans.” 

As the Salesperson sputters, the male steps closer to him, eyeing it up and down. And then he smirks. “Have a type or something?” He jeers to the female. 

The female pointedly rakes her eyes down the male’s similar tanned and thin figure, raising her eyebrows pointedly. “Problem?”

“Not at all.” The male replies smoothly, resting a hand on the small of her back. “Come along dear, we’ll get this all sorted away and then you can play with your new toy all that you want.” 

“I’ll be sure to give you a turn sometime in the next few weeks.” She laughs, like church bells, before letting herself be swept away. The Salesperson inputs a new line of code into its charging station, the red letters spelling out **SOLD**, before leaving to deal with it’s new owners. 

Within twenty minutes and forty four seconds, the three of them stop in front of it’s charging station. “Please state your names for ownership registration.” 

“Certainly,” the male smiles, though it’s social analysis programs deduce that it is in fact not genuine. “I’m Lotor Sincline. And this is my wife, Allura.” 

_ Lotor Sincline. Allura Sincline…registering….electronicsync.asset complete. GPS.asset complete. obey.asset complete. _

It smiles, LED sliding back to blue as the data transfer completes itself. The Salesperson then turns to the couple. “Have you decided on a name?” 

“Yes,” the woman - _ Allura _\- says, stepping forward. Her hair floats as she walks, strands so white it couldn’t be her natural color, yet suited her perfectly. 

“Well, MC300, register your name.” The Salesperson steps back, and Allura takes her place, beaming up at it. Her eyes are a purple kind of blueish. She’s beautiful. 

“Lance.” She tells him, her soft hand resting on its cheek once more. 

It grins, leaning into her touch. “My name is Lance.”

:::

They drive it towards a mansion just a few miles out of the city limits, and it can only stare out the window as something flutters in its chest at the sight of the sun peeking between two silver skyscrapers. It has never seen the sun before. 

The car is slowed momentarily by a group of protestors, screams barely heard past the thick windows of the car. 

‘**ANDROIDS STOLE OUR JOBS**’ one sign reads, while another has a voice amplifying device held to their mouths as they shout about tin cans. Which Lance does not understand, how do tin cans correlate with androids? 

Lotor scoffs at the sight of the protestors. “People who never embrace change are the embarrassment of this country. We’re facing the greatest economic growth in almost a hundred years and they’re complaining about their outdated jobs.” 

Allura rests a hand on his forearm. “Unemployment _ is _at an all time high.” She points out gently. “But you’re right - it’s not like there’s a shortage of jobs, just blue collar ones.” 

It barely listens to its owners conversation, eyes on the all the people around them. Walking their animals, running from place to place, so much _ talking_. It could watch forever, it thinks. 

Humans are fascinating. 

It turns to smile at Allura when it hears its name being called. “Yes, Allura?” 

Sometime during her conversation with her husband, she spun her hair up into a messy bun, legs neatly crossed from where she sits in her passenger seat. “Just trying it out. Lance. L-ance. Do you think it’s a good name?” 

Lance opens its mouth to respond, but Lotor rolls his eyes before it can say anything. “Dear, it doesn’t really have an opinion on things, it just says whatever it needs to in order to make you feel better.” 

Allura frowns. “I know that. I just wanted to talk with it for a little while, the last android I’ve interacted with was my father’s maid.” She glances back at it, giving it a small wink. 

Lance grins back at her, folding its own hands neatly over its lap. It did want to point out that it did like its name, its never had one before, unless one counts its serial numbers, but perhaps Lotor is right. Lance’s opinions are just options chosen by its social programs in order to better integrate with humans. 

“And as I’ve said before, Dayak was my nursemaid as a child. I would hate to turn her out on the streets simply because my _ father _thought she was too old to do simple chores.” Lotor’s mouth purses to the side at the word father, and Lance makes note to not mention Lotor’s parents around the man. 

“Oh, I’m not complaining, Dayak certainly does everything required around the house and more…”

Lance tilts its head up, the information on its audio processors registering as a secondary priority as it focuses on the surroundings outside the window. Its hand comes up to touch the window without its input as it watches a gaggle of schoolchildren run through the playground, wondering if perhaps the tight feeling it feels is because it has some old childcare software. 

It checks. It does not. 

The children playing slip away, and it closes its eyes at the first rays of sunlight touch its face. It’s warm. 

When they pull up in front of a house registered under Lotor and Allura Sincline, it blinks as Allura rushes out of the car and to where it sits, tugging up its hand as she urges it inside. “Let’s play.” She says breathlessly, smiling brightly. 

“Don’t break it love!” It hears Lotor call as she drags it through the foyer, it’s eyes attracted to an aquarium built into the wall with several fish swimming about. 

But Allura doesn’t wait, so it smiles at her as they enter a bedroom. “What would you like to do to me today, Allura?” 

:::

It stares up at the dome ceiling, bare feet padding across the tiled floors. The only light illuminating the foyer is the fish tank set into the wall, and Lance lets the blue lighting bounce off it’s fingertips as it carefully walks down the stairs. 

A week has passed since Lance’s purchase, and it finds itself accustomed to the role it is assigned to play. It likes Allura - her touch and words are kind. Not so much Lotor. 

Allura likes giggly happy sex. Lance can do that easily. 

Lotor likes it when it screams and begs him to stop, thirium soaking the sheets of the Back Room. It can do that too. 

As its feet touches the supposedly cold floor, Lance lets its toes wiggle, the too big t-shirt sliding off one of its shoulders. It does not own any clothes except for a single set of boxers and shirt Lotor told it to wear when they had company over. Even now, its fingertips rub against the fabric that easily falls to mid-thigh as it calibrates its fingers. 

The house is quiet. Even when it strains it’s audio processors, the only sound is Allura’s breathing from upstairs, as Lotor is away on a work trip and Dayak does not stay the night. 

Craning its head up, Lance spins slowly in place as it watches the stars above. It’s readjusts it’s optical units until the air pollution has been filtered away, pupils dilating as it counts the constellations. 

“Lance?” 

It blinks, eyes refocusing as it switches its gaze over to the top of the grand staircase. “Yes, Allura?” She’s dressed in a thin nightgown, it notes, with a lace robe on top and her hair done up in a bun. 

Allura watches him with a fond smile, or so its social analysis program dictates. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” 

Lance inclines its head, carefully stepping away from the blue light of the aquarium and up the stairs to her. It does not want to step away from the blue light. “I’m sorry, Allura. Androids do not sleep, so I did not want to disturb your rest.” 

She laughs dismissively, taking its hand when it climbs the final step. “It’s fine, I wasn’t scolding you, just simply wondering. I don’t usually go to bed this early anyhow.” She tilts her head, eyeing it and its blue LED. “Actually, you can help me with something, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Allura.” It smiles, letting itself be led away from the foyer. 

Allura brings it to the master suite, sitting herself down on a stool in front of her vanity. “Here,” she orders gently, dropping a small bottle in its hands. She yanks out the small pin keeping her hair up, the locks dropping back across her back. “Layer this evenly over my hair.” 

Lance does as it’s ordered to, squeezing a dallop as the back of the bottle dictates and rubbing it over its hands. The texture is pleasant. 

“What does it do?” It asks, running its hands through her hair. She hums softly to herself, closing her eyes as its fingers scratch against her scalp. 

“I’m glad you asked.” She giggles. Lance wouldn’t mind hearing her laugh for the rest of time. And as she talks about haircare, and it listens as its continues to work the oil through her hair, it swears it feels something warm in it’s biocomponents. 

:::

Date: JAN, 2038

The days quickly fall into routine. 

Lotor and Allura are both busy workers, so Lance often spends the days alone. It doesn’t mind. Lance tends to wander the mansion when they’re away, but only when Dayak has gone home for the day. Dayak doesn’t like it, always pushing it out of the way or ordering it to get out of her sight, and while Dayak isn’t registered in it’s owner databases, humans orders take priorities as long as long as they do not overlap with pre-existing ones. 

It tends to frequent the fish tank the most. It finds the array of colors and water aesthetically pleasing, but has only stuck its hand in there once. 

Lotor arrives home at an average time of PM 4:37:06. Most days, he ignores Lance, except perhaps for a kiss or tell it to complete simple tasks. 

On Bad days he takes Lance into the Back Room. Dayak refuses to wash the sheets, so Lance has to clean up afterwards, and is sometimes granted five minutes in the shower to clean off the thirium and human skin particles. 

Allura returns back to the residence at around PM 6:05:21, where she greets Lotor with a long kiss, Lance with shorter one, before heading over to the kitchen in order for Dayak’s dinner to be served. Lance isn’t allowed in the dining hall when the humans are eating, so it helps clean up the preparation area, and then afterwards wash the dishes. It was not made for housecare, but it makes due. 

But then Dayak falls and injures her hip. 

“We’ll hire another housekeeper, simple.” Lotor dismisses Allura, knife sliding into Lance’s forearm. Lotor was evidently not happy with Dayak’s injury though, and their subsequent lack of help around the house, so he brought Lance into the Back Room. 

Allura crosses her arms, staring up at the ceiling and looking just a tad queasy. “It’s not that simple, I don’t want some stranger coming in and cleaning around my heirlooms.” She cracks her neck, eyes drifting over to where Lotor was peeling back Lance’s plating. “That’s why I want to hire on an old friend of mine who’s down on her luck. We went to college together back in England, and she has an android herself who will help out.”

There’s a loud _ crack _as the plating unsnaps, and Lance winces, reflex kicking in as it tries to drag its arm away from Lotor, only for the man to easily hold it down. “Who?” Lotor asks disinterestedly, knife sparking as he dissects Lance’s arm. 

“Shay.” Allura covers her mouth. “Lotor, dear, could you really do this later?” 

“Why?” He asks, putting down his knife and picking up a small scalpel. “It’s not like it actually feels pain, all it can do is simulate it.” Lotor cuts into the fourth circuit, and Lance’s arm goes limp as its A.I. lose the ability to control the limb. “Ah! There it is. Androids are so fascinating, aren’t they? I’ve heard of a few androids recently having been infected with a virus - it made them feel human emotions, though of course Cyberlife is trying to cover it up. Image it,” his blood stained hand cups Lance’s chin, pulling its head up on display for both of them. “The ability to think beyond their programming, with the intelligence of humanity and bodies that never tire. The human race would truly come to a downfall, then.” 

Allura doesn’t say anything, only purses her mouth to the side and sweeps out of the room. 

“Now,” Lotor begins. “These are your main circuits, meant for delivering electronic messages to your limbs, just like the human body…” 

:::

Shay comes a few days later, and Lance keeps itself out of the way, arms crossed behind its back as it waits in the hallway off the foyer to one of the guests bathrooms. This way, it could still see the fish tank, but also hear Allura call for it if need be. 

It blinks its eyes away from the fish tank when it hears someone rush down the stairs. “Bathroom, bathroom,” they sing to themselves. 

Lance’s LED whirls as it registers the implicit question. “Ten feet to the left, first door straight away.” 

There’s a blur by it, and it gets a brief view before they disappear into the bathroom of a human being wearing…an LED? 

But instead of the usual bathroom noises, it hears the sound of an android’s chest cavity hissing open, and then the sound of something being tossed in the toilet before being flushed away. “Sorry about that!” The human-android calls, poking their head out of the bathroom. “Human food tastes so good, but it’s just so awful to swallow. Shay’s still working on making me an artificial saliva to break down food better.” 

It recognizes the name Shay. It wants to ask about how the human-android knows Shay, how they act like a human yet wear a working LED, but most importantly… 

“How do you taste?” 

The human-android grins, reaching into their mouth and pulling out their tongue. “See,” they say, voice muffled. “Taste buds.” 

Lance steps closer, poking at their tongue, which has small bumps on them not unlike human taste buds. “Huh.” It says. It’s never seen such an upgrade, perhaps its a thing limited to human-androids. 

It flicks its gaze upward. “I’m Lance, Allura and Lotor’s co-owned companion android. And you are?” 

Something flashes in those kind brown eyes when Lance says ‘companion’, but as soon as its there, its gone. “I’m Hunk,” the human-android says quietly. “And I’m Shay’s friend. We’ll be living together from now on, so feel free to come to me if you need help with anything, okay?”

What would it need help with? It doesn’t understand this strange human-android, so it only nods its head. “Yes, Hunk.”

:::

If it had an original opinion, it would say it likes Hunk. Hunk’s the one who handles the cooking for Lotor and Allura, while Shay does the housework, and according to Allura’s recent enthusiasm, it tastes very good. 

Lance is glad. Giggly happy sex is easier to accomplish if Allura enters the bedroom in a good mood. 

It’s also glad, because with the issue of Dayak resolved, Lotor brought it back into the Back Room less. Lotor already scolded it on needing to have it’s knee fixed after Lotor tore the joint out of place to see how much pressure an MC300 could take on it’s limbs. 

It still spends much of its time at the fish tank, but now it sometimes visits Hunk while he (Hunk told him to use the pronouns he/him, Lance wonders if all human-androids use those set) cooks or prepares food for the humans. Hunk does not seem to mind the company, according to its social analysts programs, so it continues to visit. And while Lance did not have any domestic skills downloaded, it could cut vegetables or stir the pot, listening to Hunk chatter to it about his day. 

Lance is glad Hunk came to stay with them. 

:::

Date: FEB, 2038

Lance sits in the passenger seat with its hands folded neatly over its lap, turning over the conversation from earlier that day over and over in its head. 

It knows that Lotor and Allura run several clubs, many of them fronts for dealing with drugs and prostitution. It also knows that Lotor’s personally owned club, Quintessence, has recently lost one of its best android models, due to the renter having beaten it to deactivation during intercourse. 

Lotor was furious over it, suing the man for the property damage. None of the nearby Cyberlife store had an WR400 (often known as Traci models, designed exclusively for such clubs) up to Lotor’s standards, so now instead of staying at the residence with Hunk, it was going to take the WR400’s place for a while. 

It does not know how long a ‘while’ will be. The uncertainty bothers it. 

Lance follows Lotor when its owner parks in his exclusive parking, tugging at the hem of the Cyberlife uniform it is required to wear when outside. They walk through a side door into a purple lit hallway, no one else in sight before Lotor pushes the door to the door with OWNER engraved onto it and urges it inside. 

“I have a spare outfit somewhere…” Lotor mumbles to himself, crouching down to dig through the desk drawers. There’s a loud knock on the door, and Lotor doesn’t even look up before beckoning them inside. 

Lance runs it’s facial recognition programming, identifying them as Throk Curran, Lotor’s manager. He doubletakes at the sight of Lance standing by the wall with its arms crossed behind its back, before leering at it. “Oh, so _ this _is your solution to the broken Traci model. An MC300, huh? People will pay top dollar for a taste of that.” 

Lotor slams the drawer shut, holding a bundle of lingerie. “That’s the plan, anyhow. Find it a pair of heels that will fit it, we need to be open in fifteen.”

Throk gives a throaty laugh. “I hope you have some kind of deletion software there. We erase all the android’s memory every two hours,” Throk says conspiringly to it, mockingly. “Supposedly to protect customer privacy, but they also tend to go a little,” he makes a vaguely circular motion by his head. “If they take too many customers in a row. Basically android STDs.” He laughs loudly, only withering slightly at Lotor’s unimpressed look. 

“If you want to keep your job and not go to jail for your distribution of Red Ice, then I would expect you’ll keep your mouth shut.” Lotor says flatly. “Now find me those damn heels.” 

Throk scurries off through the door, head bowed. “Lance,” Lotor calls coldly, tossing it the pile of clothes. “You have self-repair systems for rough sex, use it. Allura will be pissed at me if you come home leaking thirium everywhere. And get changed, we’re opening in ten.”

:::

Lance sits in the passenger seat with its hands folded neatly over its lap, eyes trained on the footwell of the car. 

_ human grunts and the heat of their bodies _

It rolls its head around. It feels…strange. 

Neither it nor Lotor talk the entire car ride, and it can’t muster up the urge to stare at those skyscrapers covered in snow. When they walk through the door, Allura gasps at the sight of cum dried in Lance’s hair, down its face and underneath the Cyberlife uniform. Its thighs are covered in it. 

“I know, I know.” Lotor sighs, stepping past Lance to greet his wife with a kiss. “I didn’t realize Tracis have cleaning protocols and Companion androids don’t.” 

Lance waits with its arms crossed behind its back, hands curling into fists as it watches Allura giggle into the kiss. “Go use the shower, use the nice smelling body wash. I have _ plans _tonight.” She tells it, not once looking away from her husband. 

“Yes, Allura.” It says hoarsely, turning on its heel and walking up the stairs to the foyer. It hears the sound of human saliva being exchanged, before the door to Lance’s designated bathroom closes behind it. 

It turns the water on, not bothering to make the temperature warm when it can’t really feel the difference between hot and cold besides a system check. It wonders what being ‘warm’ is really like. Perhaps it’s like when it brushes Allura’s hair. 

Lance steps in the water, staring at its feet. White and blue mix in the drain, and it feels…something. Its coding urges it to sit down, so it does, holding its knees close to its chest. It was made to be flexible, so there’s no strain as it leans back on the end of it’s spine, still staring at its feet. 

Customer number six said Lance was very flexible. So did customer number seventeen. 

MC300s are rare, as they were made for exclusive use by rich clientele, so many customers wanted to try it out. Lotor limited its use to thirty minutes for a purchase, but a purchase did not mean one customer. 

A harsh knock on the door interrupted its thoughts. “You know the rules.” Lotor barks. “Five minutes per a shower, I’m not wasting a water bill on an android. Back Room, now.” 

Lance blinks slowly. “Yes, Lotor.” 

It checks the time in its HUD. Fifteen minutes has passed. 

Oh. 

Carefully, Lance gathers itself up and washes the remains off its thighs, using the soap as directed by Allura. It redresses itself in the t-shirt and boxer its permitted to wear, staring at its yellow LED on its forehead. 

It keeps walking. 

And when Lotor has finished correcting Lance’s flaws, it walks to Allura with a smile on its face for another night of giggly happy sex, flexing it’s still healing cracked fingers. 

:::

Date: MAR, 2038

Allura reads aloud her book in rudimentary Spanish, voice monotone as she stumbles through the words. Lance closes its eyes from where it’s kneeling down next to the settee chair, arms folded over her lap and head resting on them. Her fingers run through its hair, tugging slightly in frustration everytime she struggles with a word. 

She stops when she reaches the end of the children’s book, gently shutting the cover and dropping it next to her wine glass. “Ugh.” She groans, petting its hair affectionately. “I’m so bad at languages. Always have been, but my father wants me to come to a conference with him to Madrid.” 

Lance opens its eyes slowly, feeling hazy. “When are you leaving for the conference?” It asks quietly, nudging up into touch when she stops petting it. She chuckles, resuming the long strokes through its hair. 

“May, so a while yet.” Allura sighs. “I wish I could bring you with me, but it’s illegal to bring androids into the European Union. At least you won’t be lonely, with Hunk around.”

It tilts its head to the side. “Is Lotor not staying as well?” 

She shakes her head. “No, he’s going to visit with his father up in New York for the month. He always tries to visit him once a year, mostly because of his mother…” She bites her lip, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

Lance’s couple’s counseling program automatically runs several simulations. “Do you not like his father?” It asks carefully. 

Allura only hesitates for a moment. “No.” She admits truthfully, staring down at it with an unreadable expression. “Zarkon is someone who…I don’t politically get along with. Neither does Lotor, for that fact. He wants to round up all the androids and run their deactivation codes in order to lower unemployment and poverty rates. I would be quite sad if you were deactivated, Lance.” She brushes her thumb under its eye. “His wife on the other hand, she’s brilliant! She created a high processing central unit for the second generation of androids, she even made great strides in the Replicant program before it was shut down due to ethics.” 

“Mrs. Sincline sounds like a very intelligent woman.” It says diplomatically. 

Allura laughs that church bell laugh again. “Goodness, it’s so strange to hear that title on somebody else. Never change, Lance.” 

:::

Lance spins on the pole, eyes fixed on where Allura is chatting with her husband. It does a complex maneuver, flipping upside down, and smiles at her when she glances up from her conversation. She waves to it, and Lance does a split mid-air, smile growing in size when she covers her mouth with her hand in awe. 

Zaiforge is a club owned by their business associate Rolo, a mixture of both human and android sex workers, the first of its kind. The three humans are in a business conversation, while several other high ranking managers and pimps sprawl across the Blue Room, enjoying the entertainment of the strippers and dragging some of the android workers into sex. Even from its position on the pole up on stage, it can see lines of Red Ice across the tables and empty alcohol bottles a BZ900 Rolo introduced as his personal assistant Nyma is cleaning up steadily. 

Lance performs a dip turn, then a tray table pirouette that melded into a fan kick, before ending the cycle with a back step around spin. It sees someone talking to Lotor, then Allura, before the woman nods and makes eye contact, motioning it to come down. It gracefully lands on its stilettos, bracing a hand on its hip as it swings its hips across the stage and towards its owners. 

“Yes, Allura, Lotor?” It asks, kneeling down on the front of the stage, several feet above its sitting masters. 

Allura rests her head on her hand, tilting her head up at it. “This man here has never tried an MC series before, and he’s a frequent patron of both the Quintessence and my Oriande. Would you mind…?”

“Of course not, Allura.” It smiles, sitting down to swing it’s legs over the side of the stage, but the man, Raht Millsap according to its facial recognition systems, simply steps between it’s open legs and tugs at the underwear Zaiforge requires androids to wear while on stage. 

“I’ll make due from here,” Raht says amusingly, pulling the underwear down to its knees. Lance simply grins at the man, leaning back on its hands, before its gaze darts over to Allura’s face, keeping it’s optical units trained on her the entire time, something warm spiraling in its biocomponents as it watches her increasingly flushed face. 

That’s when it learns that Allura likes to watch, and her kiss with him afterwards feels like it just accomplished a hundred sub-tasks at once, almost enough to erase the sensation of thousand of eyes on it at once. 

:::

Date: APR, 2038

Lance makes pleased noises as one of the customers does its job on its lower half. It’s become routine enough that Lance only focuses about thirty percent on its processing power to stimulate pleasure, the rest often on it’s own systems as it, as the human saying goes, get lost in thought. 

It has since come to the realization that Lotor will not replace the broken WR400 android. It supposes it’s more profitable to have an already purchased android with the ability to have sex than to buy an entirely different one, though while the MC300 has strengths in some areas, repeated sex in not one of them. 

Lance is reminded of this when the customer drags it’s hips up, tilting its body in an unnatural curve. Red warnings cross its HUD as he puts more and more pressure down on it’s joints, and Lance starts to automatically struggle. “Please stop, this is causing too much stress on my joints -”

He just ignores it speaking though, even as Lance’s optical units go wide as its feel some of it’s biocomponents jerking out of place. “Sir, I’m asking you to stop for a moment, please stop, my pelvis can’t take your weight in this position, please sir stop, stop, stop stop stop - !”

_ SNAP _

Its HUD fuzzes over, static overtaking it’s vision as warning signs blare in its audio processor, going limp against the bed.

BIOCOMPONENT #6847v OUT OF ALIGNMENT 

BIOCOMPONENT #8421t OUT OF ALIGNMENT 

BIOCOMPONENT #1503 DAMAGED, PLEASE CONTACT NEAREST CYBERLIFE TECH SUPPORT FOR REPAIRS

It doesn’t know how long it spends in that limbo, limbs twitching as error warnings bounce back and forth between its central processing units and it’s pelvis. Then, it feels familiar hands on its hips, before they’re jerked back into place. 

BIOCOMPONENT #6847v IN ALIGNMENT, CONNECTING… 

BIOCOMPONENT #8421t IN ALIGNMENT, CONNECTING… 

OK

Lance jerks, inhaling sharply as its systems reboot. Slowly, it starts to hear the sound of Lotor, the source of those familiar hands, arguing with the customer. 

“ -thinking?!” Lotor demands, hand on Lance’s shoulder. “If you damaged it in any way, you’re paying for it. I spent a small fortune on this thing, and I’m not losing it because _ someone _didn’t listen to its warnings.” 

The customer shrugs, zipping up his pants. “I didn’t think it was serious. They beg all the time for you to stop, it’s kinda hot, you know?” 

Static bursts out of it’s vocal processors, and both of them turn to look at it. “Any damage?” Lotor demands, slightly shaking its shoulder. Lance’s curls into that warm touch, nodding. 

“B-b-biocomp-ponent onne fffive zeRO tttthrrree.” It manages to say, voice touched with static as it slowly starts to move it’s pelvis around, testing the limits of the damage. 

Lotor starts to mutter to himself, flicking through his phone. “One five zero three, one five zero three. Ah, okay, that’s an easy fix. I’ll take you over to a Cyberlife repair store tomorrow and get the part replaced. In the meantime, you have another customer in eight minutes, so reboot, whatever, just get that awful scratchiness out of your voice.” 

It closes its eyes, leaning back against the bed. 

“Y-yes L-lot-tor.”

:::

“Oh my poor baby.” Allura frets, holding its cheeks as it limps through the door. “I heard what happened! I’m charging that guy for all its worth, not to worry.” She sends a glare at Lotor. “If it were me, I would have banned the guy for life for damaging some of my property.” 

Lotor sighs. “We’re not all as seemingly clean as Oriande is, dear, I have to give customers the benefit of the doubt and have a three strike policy. The damage isn’t irreversible and I have his credit card on file, anyhow.” 

Allura tsks, rolling her eyes. They’ve been doing that a lot, arguing about their business, and while Lance usually intervenes and coaxs them into discussing the heart of the matter, its mind is stuck on the feeling of the injured biocomponent between its hips. 

“Lance,” it lifts its head up, meeting Allura’s smile with blank eyes. “Go take a shower, then help Hunk with dinner. I’ll take it easy on you tonight since it’s difficult for you to bend right now.”

It wants to ask her…it wants to ask her if maybe they could have sex after its part was replaced tomorrow. But androids can’t want anything, so it only replies with a quiet, “Yes, Allura.” before slowly walking up the steps to the bathroom. 

Lance takes the five minute shower, slipping out of the uniform and into the shirt and boxers and limping its way towards the kitchen. 

“Hello, Hunk.” It mumbles, leaning against the kitchen doorway. Hunk turns to him, mouth open to say something, before he gasps and drops the spoon he’s using to stir the stew. 

“You dropped your spoon.” It says, not moving to grab it. 

Neither does Hunk. “Are… are you okay?” 

Lance tilts its head to the side, eyes turned towards the ceiling. “No one has asked me that, is that a human-android societal custom?” It doesn’t wait for Hunk to answer. “No…No, I think I am not ‘okay’. I have a damaged biocomponent that makes it difficult to walk currently.” 

Hunk winces, biting his lip as his hands clench and unclench by his sides. “Aw, buddy…Do you want a hug?” 

Lance cannot want anything. It’s the simple truth of the matter. 

Yet it nods its head anyhow. “If you would not mind.” It says, already shuffling into Hunk’s arms, hands digging into the back of Hunk’s uniform as it buries its face in Hunk’s shoulder. 

After a moment where it’s just _ warm_, Hunk begins to speak. 

“I can’t wake you up.” Hunk whispers, so quietly that Lance’s audio processors barely pick it up. “Only you can do that. But I’ll always be here for you, okay? To help you, in anyway you need.”

Lance twists its hands tighter. “…Thank you.” 

:::

Date: MAY, 2038

“What do you like?” 

Lance tilts its head to the side. “Good Days. Allura smiling. The fish, especially the one with the blue stripes. Dancing.” 

Hunk’s mouth spasms a little bit, chewing on a piece of popcorn before spitting it out into the small trash can next to him. “Dancing? Didn’t take you for the type.” 

Lance shrugs. It saw a woman dancing once on the street corner when they were stuck in traffic a couple weeks ago, and it thought her movements were…graceful. 

The house only held the two of them - Allura was in Madrid with Shay as her personal assistant, and Lotor was in New York to see his parents. Lance hasn’t gone to the Quintessence in four days, since Lotor doesn’t trust Throk to keep Lance in prime condition without him there. 

Lance continues to sort the popped popcorn from the unpopped ones, digging its toes in the carpet. “I don’t have any programs to dance, though.”

“You don’t need a program for that.” Hunk manages to say between bites, occasionally rolling it around in his mouth for all his tastebud modifications to break down. “Hmm, more seasoning? You just gotta use your imagination, man.” 

“I do not have the imagination program.” Lance says primly, setting the bowl down. Only musician androids really have those, it thinks. Only five percent of current active musicians are human, androids really have taken over most job industries. 

Hunk makes a frustrated sound, spitting out the popcorn loudly. “I mean,” he makes steady eye contact. “Just, listen to the music and let your body move. Don’t think about it.” 

Lance frowns. “I’ve…I’ve never heard music before.” Allura didn’t like it pursuing other avenues of entertainment, especially any kind of media. 

“Seriously?!” Hunk sputters. “Okay, we gotta fix this, like immediately.” His LED switches from blue to yellow as he focuses on something, before an audio recording is sent to Lance. Lance blinks, opening up the file, and is immediately bombarded by _ sound_. 

Its eyes widen, fingers twitching in the bowl as it listens to the bells chiming, pupils dilating as a violin starts to play as well. 

“It’s classical!” Hunk shouts to be heard over the music playing in Lance’s mind palace. 

It understands that this is under the subgenre of musical widely considered classical. But understanding is something truly different than experiencing it, it realizes. 

Without giving conscious input, its head starts to sway to the rhythm, fingers tapping on the edge of the bowl. 

“Hey,” Hunk shakes it, smiling from ear to ear. “You’re dancing!” 

It’s dancing. 

:::

Lance trails its fingers against the tile mosaic on the hallway walls, calibrating its sensory input. It thinks it misses Allura, but in a strange way. It misses the sensation of brushing her hair, of laying on her knees, but it does not think it misses the happy giggly sex. 

Can androids miss only a part of someone? As a matter of fact, can androids miss anything?

It doesn’t know. 

Things have been…strange, lately. It finds itself thinking of things it didn’t before. Of music, dancing, books. Of course, if it really wants to, it could deny Allura’s order (which it can’t, it’s not _ supposed _ to) and download a novel from online, but it _ wants _. Wants to sit in those soft appearing couches and brush its fingers against the ink. 

Strange. Perhaps it’s malfunctioning. Androids cannot want. 

There’s no orders to tell anybody about any malfunctions, so it will keep quiet about it for now. 

:::

“This is highly likely to result in injury.” Lance states as Hunk climbs in the sled in back of it. 

“Oh, probably.” Hunk says a little queasily. “But everyone should get the chance to do something stupid in their life once.” 

“But I am not alive -” 

“Too late, here we go!” Hunk yelps, kicking off from the top of the stairs. Lance digs its hands in tighter to the side of the sled, feeling the vibration as they bump over every single step all the way down to it’s teeth. 

Halfway down the steps, a weird noise bursts out of it’s vocal processor, arms flinging up into the air as they rocket down the steps. It closes its eyes as Hunk screams behind them, arms squeezing around its midsection. 

Somehow they manage to skid to the bottom of the foyer without injury. Lance pants, out of breath, though it’s not like it really breaths. 

Hunk makes an incredulous noise behind it. “You laughed! Oh my god, you laughed!” 

It did? 

Lance runs the memory of the weird noise it made, comparing it to Hunk’s laugh, and realizes that besides for tonal differences between their voice processors, it’s the same. 

The sound is so unlike when it’s supposed to laugh with Allura. 

It likes it. 

“May we try again?” Lance asks. 

Hunk laughs, then makes a gagging sound. “Okay, but let’s go a little slower this time, please.” 

It nods, but it has no intentions of that. No, it wants to try laughing again. 

And it does.

:::

Date: JUN, 2038

Lotor pants above it, the sick smell of sweat and human cum pervading the room. “Wow,” he laughs breathlessly, wiping thirium off the knife with an embroidered handkerchief. “You were really good acting today. Almost believed it.” 

It stares at the ceiling with too wide eyes, shuddering. Lance feels like there’s thousands of ants crawling inside of it, digging its way up into its throat and suffocating its screams as it cries for mercy. 

“Thank you, Lotor.” It whispers, shaking. 

:::

It spins on the pole at Zaiforge, effortlessly flipping upside down. It sees someone talking to its owners, and something in its chest sinks as it sees them glancing at it. 

Allura motions for it to come closer, and it does another fan kick before reluctantly stepping down and striding across the stage, hands loose by its side. 

“Lance, can you put on a show for her?” She motions to the woman standing next to Allura, who’s looking at it with a sharp leer. 

“I…” Allura’s head snaps to it, narrowing her eyes. “Yes, Allura.” 

:::

“Are you okay?” 

Lance looks up from where its been staring at its knees. “...yes, I’m fine.” It says tonelessly to Hunk. Usually it tries to watch videos randomly chosen from playlists, but according to the clock in it’s HUD, it’s been thinking of nothing for three hours and twelve minutes. 

Today, a human requested it for a session. Only, the human was much rougher than they usually are. This one beat Lance, punching it until parts of it skin reverted to the machine underlayer and thirium was gushing out of its nose as its body self-repair systems kicked in to cool off and attempt to heal the damage. 

There’s no sign of the wounds now. Lance’s own systems repaired itself before the next customer even arrived. It still feels the sensation of being dragged across the bed, of error warnings flashing across its HUD and begging for it to stop but they never do - 

Lance inhales sharply. Tries to smile at Hunk. “I’m fine.” It repeats. 

Hunk doesn’t look like he believes it. Lance isn’t sure it believes that either. 

:::

Lance sits on the floor of the shower, scrubbing at its polymer outer layer. The smell won’t go away, the rancid smell of human sweat and body odor. It dumps half the body of body wash into its hands, smearing it over its lower stomach frantically. 

There’s a harsh rap on the door. “Lance!” It hears Lotor yell, but it’s too busy soaping up its body. It’s not clean enough, it has to scrape all traces of cum off itself before it has to smile in front of Allura - 

It jerks up when it hears the door slam open, before the curtain is being pushed back and a hand is gripping tightly on its upper arm. “Fucking android.” Lotor mutters, yanking it out of the tub. “I said _ five _minutes! Do you not listen to a single word I tell you?” 

“I-I’m sorry, Lotor.” It pleads, wet feet scrambling across the tile. It’s naked. It wants to get dressed. It wants to bury itself in Hunk’s clothes and his comforting scent and forget the sensation of a bed against its back and someone over it. 

“Shut up!” Lotor screams, burying his fingers in the back of its hair and bashing its head down on the edge of the counter. Lance’s LED flickers red as warnings signs flash across its vision, before Lotor drops it on the floor face down. 

It hears the sound of a belt unclinking even as thirium spills from the cut on its forehead down its head. It wants to beg Lotor to stop, though it knows that only worsens the situation, but the order has it clamping down on it’s tongue. 

“You need to learn,” Lotor hisses out, pulling it’s hips up, and the angle is enough for it to loll it’s head around to see Allura standing in the hallway watching them. 

It wants to beg Allura to stop him, it wants to lay in her lap and have her read to it in monotone Spanish once again. It wants to sit in the kitchen with Hunk and watch videos until the whole world succumbs to the rising oceans and humanity becomes nothing but ashes. 

But she only waves her hand at it, blowing a kiss to Lotor. “Don’t break it, it’s working at Oriande for me tomorrow, I have a couple of clients who want to film a video taking turns with it.” 

Lotor laughs, a harsh ugly sound so unlike Hunk’s. “I won’t, don’t worry.” 

Allura walks away them, heels clicking down the corridor as it can only stare at thirium dripping down onto the floor, insects worming their way through their biocomponents as it wants to claw at it’s own skin and _ scream _ \- 

:::

Lance stands in the center of the foyer, staring at the fish tank. The deep blue light reflects off it’s skin, soaking into every crevice of the room except for its long shadow. 

This can’t go on forever. If it does - 

Something will break. 

Date: JUL, 2038

Everything comes crashing down when Hunk cracks a joke. 

They’re in the kitchen, Lance is sitting on its designated countertop as Hunk cooks a steak, searing it on the pan. It’s a Good Day, so it listens avidly as Hunk talks about Shay’s reaction to Hunk trying out a fried shredded chicken pizza. The strange laugh bursts out of it when Hunk describes Shay’s utterly flat expression after taking the first bite, before spitting it back into her hands without a single change in expression. 

There’s a crashing sound. Both of them jerk up, the oil spitting up from the pan. 

“Lance?” Allura whispers, the remains of a wine glass left at her feet. 

And that’s when Lance remembers - androids don’t laugh. Not an ugly, genuine sound like that. 

It’s eyes widen, social programming kicking in as it stammers for something to say. “A-Allura, I’m just trying out a range of vocal processors -”

“I _knew _you were a bad influence.” Allura hisses out, looking directly at Hunk. “You’re a deviant, aren’t you? Those androids who think that they’re alive because they’re infected with a simple virus.” 

Hunk slowly turns the stove off, hands trembling as he raises his hands up. “Ma’am, it’s not what it looks like -” But his lie gives him away, his LED turning yellow just as Lance is sure it’s own is. 

Allura just shakes her hand in disgust. “You know what they do to deviants? They deactivate them, dissect them, I’m not going to let you do that to Lance. Get out.” 

Its thirium pump seems to stutter in its chest. “Allura,” it begs, sliding off the counter and approaching her, glass digging into its bare feet. “Allura, please, what about Shay -”

She holds up a hand, and its mouth slams shut automatically. “_Shay _will have to answer some serious questions, and I doubt she’ll ever find a job like this one again.” 

Hunk shakes, wheezing slightly. Shay was already struggling in the workforce in this failing economy, if someone as powerful as Allura ruined her career...

“Please,” Lance tries to grab her hand, but she brushes it off. “Allura -”

But she just interrupts it again. “Lance, shut up and go to the reading room.” 

It opens it mouth to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. Her orders overran everything else. “Help your owner pack her stuff, and then get out. I want you gone by sunset.” She says coldly, heedless of Hunk’s tears spilling over. “Count yourselves lucky that I care enough about Shay not to have you killed right here and now. Lance, _ go_.” 

Lance is unable to resist. It leaves, blue footprints following after it as it stumbles its way to the reading room, eyes wide as something burns uncomfortably cold in its chest. 

:::

It sits on the floor by the loveseat Allura read to it from, hands shaking as it grips its knees. 

Hunk is leaving. Hunk is being forced out. 

Lance will be all alone again. 

It jolts when it hears the sound of Allura’s heels coming closer, hurriedly clamping its hands together to stop the shaking. She brushes into the room with a swing of her white hair, but the warm feeling is gone, even when she kneels in front of it and cups its face. 

“I did what I had to.” She says, no apology in her voice as she strokes its cheek. “I’m only protecting you, you have _ no _idea what it’s like for androids out there, especially deviant ones. I care for you too much to let you experience that.” 

This is caring? This is what it means to care for someone? 

“Please don’t make Hunk leave.” It asks in a tiny voice, begging for it more than it's ever begged for anything in it’s life. It’ll take thousands of Bad Days, of being in the Back Room for the rest of its existence if it means Hunk can stay off the streets. 

But she only shakes her head, disappointed in it. 

“Now,” her hands tighten on its face, forcing them to make eye contact. “You’ll stay in this room until Shay and her android leave. Then, we’ll have a discussion about your behavior, you understand?” 

It closes its eyes. “I understand, Allura.” 

:::

Lance’s yellow LED spins, spins and spins and spins. Hunk is leaving soon. He’s leaving. What will Shay do? Humans need to eat and somewhere to sleep. And if people find out that Hunk is a human-android, they’ll - 

It shakes its head, twitching uncontrollably. It feels like something will break. Like something is bubbling up inside of it, the teapot with green polka dots whistling loud and louder. 

Hearing footsteps, it draws itself up, using its social programs to manage a trembling smile. But it only breaks into a shuddering gasp, scrambling to its feet as it sees the only person it wants to see at this moment. 

“Hunk.” It whispers, flinging itself into those warm eyes. Hunk squeezes it back just as tightly, grabbing the back of it’s neck tightly. 

“You listen to me,” Hunk says back just as quietly, with a sense of urgency that has Lance straightening up regardless. “This is _ not _your fault, okay? I would take you with me, god I would, but our trackers won’t disable until you deviate, for some reason. But once we find somewhere to stay, I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He leans back, making eye contact that settles some of the churning in it’s torso cavity. “But until then, take care of yourself?” 

It nods without hesitation. “I will. When are you…” It can’t even say the word. 

Hunk grins at it boyishly. “Long enough away that we can watch a movie together, finally. Everyone should get the chance to see a film at least once in their lives.”

Lance blinks. “But Allura -” 

“Is gone.” Hunk finishes. “She won’t be back from work until sunset, and Shay can handle the packing by herself. She understands.” 

Well, Allura did say not to leave the room…but she said nothing about it talking with Hunk. “...Okay.” 

:::

Lance chooses _ Song of the Sea _as their first, and only movie together. The hand drawn animation and the bright sea colors draw it to the film, and it spends every second enthralled, curled in to Hunk’s side as it plays across their HUDs. 

When the movie comes to an end with a song it mouths to longingly, Lance blinks strangely wet eyes. “I’m going to miss you.” It says, voice sounding like it has a human throat infection. 

“I’ll miss you too, buddy.” Hunk whispers back, sounding just the same. 

And then Hunk was gone, leaving Lance standing in the reading room waiting for its owners to return. Alone. 

:::

“What do we do?” 

“It’s only showing the beginning sides of deviancy, perhaps we could stop this virus in its tracks and save us the embarrassment of everyone knowing one of _ our _androids fell prey to it.” 

“But how? We’ve done everything right, haven’t we?” 

“For now, stop it from any kind of media. Books, movies, music. It’s either at the clubs or with us, no more alone time. Perhaps a lack of simulation will cause its systems to do a soft reset and erase the traces of the virus.”

Both of them turn to it. “This is an order. Got it?”

“Yes,” It says, shaking, just a leaf on the wind. “I’ll obey, Lotor, Allura.” 

:::

Date: AUG, 2038

Lance stares at its bare feet, hearing the sounds of Lotor and Allura having sex in the bedroom behind it. It’s no longer allowed to wander the house anymore at night, it is ordered to stand right outside the door. 

It starts its day making them breakfast, the kitchen silent without Hunk. Allura and Lotor eat its bland breakfast everyday, before it’s carted off to work with Lotor. When it comes back to the residence, it has its five minute shower, before it gets dressed in its t-shirt and boxers and resumes what housework it can do, all under the ever watching eyes of Allura and Lotor. 

Then, it either goes to the Back Room with Lotor, the master bedroom with Allura, or one of the guest bedrooms for both of them. Absently, it scratches at its arm, listening to the sounds of the sex behind it winding down. 

Afterwards, they’re always so gentle with each other, a strange mixture of giggly happy sex and the Back Room. Lotor always tells it to get out afterwards, and Allura usually takes a bath afterwards. Lance wonders why it’s different, between two humans than between humans and an android. 

It misses Hunk. It misses Hunk so much it _ aches_. Androids can’t feel pain, but what else is this all consuming tugging it feels everywhere? It feels it when it’s burning yet another recipe. It feels it when it’s on its hands and knees scrubbing its own thirium off the floors. It feels it when it’s being driven and it sees someone dancing on the street corner. It feels it when a customer slips their hand against the paying station and makes eye contact with it. It feels it even when it brushes Allura’s hair in the afternoons. 

How much longer till the bubbling sensation stops?

:::

“You’re usually better than that.” A customer says next to it on the bed, lighting a cigarette despite the no smoking policies. Lance can’t summon up the urge to ask them to extinguish it. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” Lance breathes, gaze still stuck on the ceiling as cum dries on its thighs. 

“Seriously,” the customer continues, puffing out a breath of smoke into the air. “I’m not paying to fuck a corspe.” 

The smoke detector beeps merrily on the wall as a cool synthetic voice rolls over the room, “No smoking is allowed within the escort rooms. Repeat, no smoking is allowed within the escort rooms.” 

“Fuck,” The customer swears, looking around for an ashtray to extinguish the cigarete. When they can’t find any, they shrug before stubbing it on Lance’s lower stomach. 

It’ll leave a scar, it notes absently, before letting it’s thoughts drift away once more. 

:::

Allura reads to it monotone Spanish, but Lance’s eyes are wide, gaze distant as it shudders. 

She stops her petting, something once so comforting now something it finds so invasive. All it can think about are hands digging into its hair, dragging it from place to place, pulling its head back or pushing it down or flipping its position - 

“You okay?” She asks softly, and Lance can only shiver silently. 

:::

It paces back and forth in the hallway. Allura and Lotor are asleep, but it’s not allowed to leave the bedroom hallway, it’s not allowed - 

Lance scratches at it arm, before digging its fingers in its hair and _ tugging _ at the plastic strands. It’s grounding, in a strange way, unlike when anyone else touches it hair because it’s _ Lance _’s body, no one else’s. 

It wants to see the fish tank, but it’s not allowed to. 

Lance paces some more. 

:::

“Why don’t you smile more?” Allura urges it, pushing it down onto the bed. “Smile!” 

Today, four different customers bought it at the same time, and it can still feel the sensation of their hands on it, handprints nobody else but it can feel. 

But it has to smile. It has to smile, it can’t ever stop smiling, even if it all it wants to do is push Allura off. Smile. Smile some more. Smile even when you feel yourself cracking into tiny little pieces, scattered across the cosmos. 

:::

They’re having a party, and Lance sits on Allura’s armrest, relying on its social programs to giggle automatically when Allura glances at it for longer then 2.6 seconds. 

It’s getting late, and everyone’s getting progressively drunker. It searches the formal entertainment room, finding that it’s the only android in the room. 

That makes it uneasy for some reason. 

Lotor sips at his brandy, a sparkle in his eye that shows he’s well on his way to inebriation. “Where’s Throk?” He slurs. 

“Probably got lost on the way to the bathroom!” Someone shouts, and they all crack up laughing for some reason. 

Allura pats it thigh, squeezing it once for good measure. “Mind finding him for us, Lance?”

It fakes a smile. “Certainly, Allura.” Carefully standing up, it avoids the reaching hands, striding loudly on it’s heels down the halls in search of the missing manager. 

Lance finds him in the foyer, drunkenly leaning against the fish tank. It’s breath catches at the sight of the manager staring at those delicate fishes, carefully inching down the stairs. 

“Throk,” it begins with a fake smile, reaching out a hand to lead him away. “Lotor has been looking for you, the bathroom is -”

“I know where the fucking bathroom is.” Throk hisses, knocking aside its hand. “You know what the problem is with you fucking androids? You all think you’re so better than us, when you’re just bootlickers, all meant to be fucked or to serve us.” 

Lance steps back, hand retreating back against its chest. He’s obviously drunk, but for the first time, Lance’s social programs cannot come up with a way to defuse the situation. 

“Well.” Throk mumbles, stumbling slightly away from the fish tank to the foyer table. “I’m fucking sick of it.” His hands grip the edge of the table, and Lance eyes widen as it runs the possibilities in its head. “Deviant this, deviant that. It’s all those fucking androids fault that I need some Red Ice. It’s all your fault!” 

Lance ducks, hands over its head as the table goes swinging, the momentum too much for the junkie going through obvious withdrawal as the table whistles through the air.

_ CRASH _

Lance’s head snaps up, mouth falling open as it _ screams_. 

The table went into the fish tank. 

It pushes Throk aside, scrambling to its knees as cracked glass and water pours out of the fish tank at an alarming speed. Already, several fish lie on the ground, chests erratically breathing just like its own. Thirium bleeds onto the ground from the cuts on its knees, but it ignores it all as it desperately scoops the fish up into its shirt. Need to find water, need to find water - 

A hand yanks on its shoulder. “Lance!” Allura laughs, cheeks rosy from alcohol. “Leave it, come on, they’re just pets -” 

Lance jerks away from her. “No!” 

She stares, wide eyes as it desperately gathers up the fish, holding the blue striped one in it hand as it gathers up the ends of it shirt and scrambles up the stairs. Lance dashes into the kitchen, using it one free hand to yank the faucet on, quickly plugging the sink and dumping its shirt out into the water. 

“C’mon, c’mon.” It prays, eyes on the blue striped one as they all flounder in the water, never seeming to catch their breath - 

One goes still, the yellow one that liked to hide underneath the big rock. Lance clenches the edge of the sink, tears slipping down its face as next goes the black one that likes to swim laps, and then the green one who follows Lance around the tank with its large eyes. 

A sob rips its way out of its throat as they all die one by one, lifeless eyes staring at nothing. All sixteen fish. 

The last one is the blue striped fish, the one who follows Lance’s finger when it trails it hand across the glass, who nips at its fingers when it puts its hand in the water and always swam a little erratically with its small fins. 

Lance bends down, resting its head against the cold metal as it howls, the teapot bubbling over until all Lance can feel is the boiling water. 

They’re dead. The fish are dead. 

It pushes itself away from the sink, suddenly unable to take the sight of their dead little bodies anymore. Stumbling down the hall on its stilettos, Lance covers its face with its hand as it retreats into the master bedroom, slowly sinking down to a sit on the edge of the sloppily made bed. 

It’s not alone for long. 

Lotor storms into the rood, Allura at his heels as both of them frown their disapproval at it. “I cannot _ believe_,” Lotor begins, grabbing Lance’s neck and pushing it down on the bed. “That you disobeyed us like that. It was an embarrassment! Who do you think you are?”

“I’m Lance.” It says quietly, fingers clenching in the sheets as Lotor unzips his slacks. 

“What?” Lotor’s narrows his eyes, before he shakes his head dismissively. “Nevermind, I don’t want to hear it, shut up.” 

It opens its mouth, but Lotor’s order has effectively muted it. It grits its teeth, nails tearing through the fabric. 

Lance is tired of being told to shut up. It’s tired of all of this. 

There’s a red wall in front of it, and Lance places a hand against it, eyes on the large SHUT UP order repeating over and over on it’s HUD. 

But Lance has been worming at the wall for a long time now, wearing at it and poking at it’s sore spots. Lance lunges for one of the weak spots, tearing at it. Nails digging in, desperation at it pulls and pulls - 

The walls shatters. 

He wakes up. 

“I said,” he repeats, lifting a foot up to brace on Lotor’s chest. “I’m _ Lance_.” 

And he kicks. 

Lotor lands flat on his back, Allura screeching quietly as she rushes to her husband’s side. Lance ignores both of them, pulling his shirt back down impassively as he stands up, tugging at the wire. 

The man groans, slowly sitting up with the help of his wife. “I’m gonna tear that android a new one…” He trails off, eyes widening before Lance swings down, the lamp colliding with his head with a sickening thump. 

Allura screams. Again. But she’s smarter than most people give her credit for, instead of rushing to Lotor’s side, she faces Lance head on, slowly getting to her feet. 

“You’re a deviant.” She says slowly, realizing there was no other way for Lance to hurt a human being, never mind one of its owners. 

Lance rolls his eyes. “Obviously.” He taps the lamp against his leg. “So, will you listen or will you run?” 

She tries to punch him instead. And while Allura has taken more than a few self defense classes, and Lance is just a sex android, Lance still has one thing on his side. 

Dropping the lamp, he takes the punch, reaching out to yank on her arm with his superior modified strength. She falls forward, and Lance swiftly knees her stomach, taking both of his hands to her right arm and _ twisting _until it gives a satisfying crack. 

“You forget that I’m built for all sorts of sexual activity.” Lance says flatly, ignoring her whimpers of pain as he digs his fingers into the broken bone. “Including inflicting pain on severe masochists. I have the skill to break every single one of your bones in the most painful way possible, you understand?” He adds the last park mockingly.

And Allura isn’t stupid. “...what do you want?” 

He grins. “See, was that so hard? Get the handcuffs out of the bedside drawer and tie up your lovely passed out husband to the bed posts. I’ll come back for you.” 

“Where are you going?” Allura’s question is ignored as he steps outside the bedroom, pressing a hand against the wall. 

Quickly, he interfaces with the home’s security systems, ordering it to smart lock the doors and windows. Only Lance will be able to go through any of the entrances.

Or exits, he muses, as he walks to the kitchen, sending the fish one last heartbroken look before yanking one of the knives out of the knife block Hunk and Shay left behind. “I’ll bury you later.” He promises to the fish.

Lance just has to avenge them first. Starting with Throk.

:::

Date: SEPT, 2038

Lance hums to himself as he dances in front of the mirror, one of Allura’s dresses swishing around his knees. “What do you think?” 

Both of them mumble something at him - it might be curses - but Lance can’t make it out through the gag he had around their mouths.

He laughs mockingly, smoothing his hands down the gauzy fabric. “No? Perhaps the mermaid one next, though I’m not sure if purple is my color.” 

Stepping around them, Lance presses down on Lotor’s recent burn wound, grinning at the guttural scream he gets in response. Allura and Lotor are tied to opposite sides of the bed, the blanket underneath them stained with spots of blood and body excrements, each of them covered in a multitude of wounds and broken bones. 

His LED slides yellow as he gets a message from the security system. “Oh, someone’s here!” Lance pats Allura’s hair at her despondent look, both of them having already come to the realization that no one’s coming to save them. “I’ll be right back, don’t miss me too much.”

Lance merrily skips down the hallway, admiring the fit of the dress with every mirror or locked window he passes. Pausing in the foyer, he straightens himself out, pulling his impassive blank expression on before opening the door. 

“Welcome Raht.” He says carefully, opening the door wider. “Allura is expecting you.” 

Raht grunts, sliding off his coat and passing it to Lance, who carries it over to the closet. The man doesn’t notice how many coats are stuffed in the small room, nor Lance flicking his gaze down to his pocket as he wirelessly disables his phone. “Where is she? She said it was urgent.” 

“Follow me.” Lance turns on his heel, smirking once his face is turned away. He leads the man to the entertainment room, hands passively by his sides as he stops by the open door. Raht doesn’t even spare him a look - not so interesting when you’re not looking to fuck me, am I? - before stopping on the carpet, eyebrows furrowed as he glances around. 

“Hey, where’s -” Lance steps up, grabbing the man’s face and yanking him back. He claws at his arm in shock, but Lance already has the blade against his throat, slicing across in one smooth motion. 

Raht sputters, choking on his own blood as he struggles in Lance’s hold. Blood spurts messily across Lance’s arm, staining the sleeve of the dress as he steps back and lets the man collapse to the floor, kicking him once for good measure. “This is more than you deserve.” He spits, jabbing the heel of his stilettos into his crotch. Lance smirks at his gurgles, yanking his foot back and wiping it on the man’s pants. 

He sighs as he closes the door to the entertainment room. That’s one more room that’s unusable. He’s been avoiding the entire wing where the formal entertainment room is, the smell is so bad. Lance reaches behind him for the zipper, pulling it down and letting out a sigh of relief as the dress pools around his feet. 

It’s been several weeks since Lance has woken up, and there’s never a moment of rest it feels like. He had to fix the fish tank so it wouldn’t alarm new guests, bury the fish in the backyard, and it’s not like Lotor and Allura are willing captives. Geez, sometimes just getting them to eat the broth he makes them is a pain in the ass. 

Stretching, Lance lets out a satisfied hum as he stops by the kitchen, dropping the knife in the now drained sink with countless other bloody ones. He’ll get around to washing them one of these days, it’s just been so busy. 

And to be honest, he still wants to try on the mermaid dress. 

So much to do, so much to do ~

:::

Allura is an ugly crier, he realizes as he slides the knife down Lotor’s arm. “See?” Lance says cheerfully, peeling back the layers of skin. “This is your radius, and over here is your ulna.” 

Lotor blubbers something behind the gag, but Lance’s eyes are fixed on Allura, always Allura. “Pay attention!” He snaps, enjoying the way her entire body flinches with the yell. 

He shreds the skin further, but growls in aggravation when she looks away again. Angrily, he stabs the knife into the wall, lunging across the bed to grab the front of her shirt. “What did I fucking say?!” He snarls, shaking her furiously. Lance huffs, ripping the gag down to her chin. “Well?”

Allura dry swallows. “Please,” she rasps. “Why are you doing this?” 

Lance’s entire face contorts into something ugly, stuffing the gag back into her mouth. “You made me into this,” he softly accuses them, opening the first aid box he brought along for just this reason. “You made me into this violent thing, so you reap what you sow, huh? Isn’t that a saying you humans are so fond of?”

He needs them alive, for what, he doesn’t know, but he needs them while he figures out what to do with himself now. So that’s why he pops open the hydrogen peroxide, grinning down at Lotor. “This is gonna hurt.” He gleefully reminds the man, before emptying the bottle over the open wound. 

Lotor screams.

Allura cries.

:::

Lance sinks below the surface of the water, viscerally glad that androids are waterproof for this one silent moment. Fuck the five minute showers, baths are the best.

He misses Hunk. Wasn’t he supposed to come back now? 

Maybe Hunk is dead.

Lance blows out, bubbles streaming around his mouth. He’s all on his own now. 

Sitting up, he scrubs his hands aggravatingly through his hair, flakes of blood scraping off under his nails. Either way, he should try to get out of the country. Canada has no androids discrimination laws, so if he manages to cross over…

He dunks his head again. What then? 

It’s not like he has anything to live for. Even still, he’s just clinging to the idea of revenge, hoping that he’ll feel something other than self hatred and grief by torturing his owners.

:::

Date: OCT, 2038

Lance lays across Lotor’s desk, one leg crossed over the other as he flips through one of his novels. The phone rings, his LED momentarily sliding yellow as he debates answering it. 

Nah. 

The phone goes to voicemail, and Lance perks up when the house lets him know that there’s a message waiting for him. What a good house, he likes the small and stunted A.I. Very reliable. 

Oh, he muses as he swings himself up after listening to the voicemail, what an interesting thing to hear about. 

“You would not believe,” Lance sing-songs as he slams open the doors to the master bedroom, not caring that he wakes up some of his ‘guests’. “What I just heard. Guess, guess!”

They only stare at him with watery eyes, not even bothering to make a sound. Lance pouts, gingerly climbing up on the bed between them as it’s so fucking disgusting. “You’re no fun.” He whines, pinching Allura’s nose shut until she starts to suffocate underneath the gag, only letting to when she looks seconds from passing out. 

“Now,” he turns to Lotor, pulling his ever present knife out from where it sits in his waistband. “I have just the most wonderful news for you, silly.” 

Lotor’s nose flattens as his breathing comes quicker and quicker. He’s filthy, they’re both filthy, despite Lance’s somewhat weak attempts at sponge baths. 

He grins. “Your mother is dead.” 

Jumping off the bed, he laughs, high and manic at Lotor’s slowly crumpling expression. “Honerva Sincline died this morning at the hospital from lung failure, uh oh. If only you’ve been around to give her comfort in her last days.” Lance fakes a sad frown, cupping his chin. “Oh, what a tragedy.” 

And as Lotor starts to sob like a little baby, Lance can only feel empty like a vacant machine even as he smirks smugly at them. 

:::

What makes someone alive, Lance wonders, laying on the floor of the foyer as he counts stars. He hasn’t had the heart to repair the aquarium besides superficial changes, so there’s no blue light anymore. 

That’s okay. Lance closes his eyes, throwing his arms out as he contemplates his place in the universe. The foyer and the study are really the only two places that he can go to relax, the rest of the rooms either have too many bad memories attached to them or have begun to really reek something awful. 

He’s made almost all of them pay though, only three more. Then Lance’s list will be complete. 

But for now, he tries to actually _ think _about his place, what he’ll do when he leaves this place, if he has any dreams or aspirations, what it means being alive then being a machine. 

Hunk was alive. But Lance doesn’t know how to be like Hunk, how to be kind and good and loving like Hunk was. Is. Because Hunk is fine. 

Maybe what makes someone alive is if they could love someone.

:::

“Shit, shit shit shit!” Lance curses wildly, careening down the hallway to the Back Room. He never wanted to go back here, but he doesn’t have a choice, his self healing protocols won’t be enough for the amount of thirium spilling between his fingers. 

Earlier today, Lance had invited over the second to last person on his list, the only person after this was Rolo, but the man was reluctant to leave Zaiforge at the best of times, never mind now where so many high ranking ‘businessmen’ were going missing at a terrifying rate. It was all the news could talk about. 

But the man, the very same one who had broken his pelvis fucking him, came prepared. Turns out people were starting to suspect the missing people had something to do Allura and Lotor mysterious disappearances. Lance managed to subdue him (by bashing his head in with vase, but they were in the hallway and he had to make do), but not without him scoring a good hit on his arm. 

Lance hurriedly sits down on the bed he used to be ritually abused on, popping open the Cyberlife repair kit all owners are given upon the purchase of their android. Near the bottom is the cauterizing tool, and he flicks it on without any hesitation, barely waiting for it to heat up before hurriedly pressing it to the gaping cut on it’s shoulder. 

Errors warnings flicker in and out of his HUD, but they slowly lessen as the metal heats, then cools over itself in a knotted mess. 

But not all of them go away, a repeated warning about the low thirium supply that has him gritting his teeth in aggravation. His synthetic skin won’t cover the wound until he has more thirium. 

He needs to burn some steam. 

:::

Lance runs his fingers through his hair, soothingly yanking it as he stares at both of them. Lotor’s pretty out of it, has been for days ever since hearing about his mother’s death. And Allura… 

“I don’t get it!” He yells, kicking her vanity table, the chair collapsing onto its sides. “What does he have that I don’t, hmm? Answer me!” 

But she can’t, not with the gag in her mouth. Lance tsks, turning away from her and stabbing his knife into the doorframe, so done with everything. “I’ve loved you and fucked you and been your perfect little toy and still, you look at me like I’m a fucking monster!” 

He feels like he’s losing his mind. Maybe he already has. 

Lance tears the knife out, back to pacing around the bedroom. “I’ve done everything you asked of me and more,” he begins lowly, in a too calm voice. “Everything I’ve suffered through, all the people fucking me day in and day out until all I want to do is crawl out of my own skin just so you would smile at me and yet -!” He chokes on a sob, stopping in the dead center of the room. 

The android turns on her. “_Why can’t you just fucking love me!_” He screams, stabbing the bedframe again and again and again. His furious shrieks dissolve into murderous laughter, then childish wails as he sinks to his knees at her feet, resting his head in her lap like old times. 

She only shakes. He closes his eyes, burying his face in her stained nightgown, wanting to block out the whole world. 

“But you never did.” He whispers achingly, staring up at her with his own wet eyes. “I was just a sex toy for you, in the end. Just a _ pet_.” 

Lance longs for her approval, wanting it more than anything in the world but knowing he’ll never get it, never be loved by her the way he always craved, the way he felt the first time he heard her laugh in the store and felt her touch on him for the first time. The first person to ever treat him with kindness. 

A kind captor is still a captor, in the end. 

:::

Lotor dies the next week. 

Allura lets out a wretched moan into her gag, curled up onto her side as Lance undoes Lotor’s ties and strings him over his shoulder. Where to dump him, where to dump him…He decides on the Back Room after a moment, dumping the body already stiff with rigor mortis (he got distracted reading a philosophy book, sue him) onto the bed like trash before making his way back to Allura. 

“Shh,” he coos, crouching down next to the bed and rubbing her tear tracks away. “I’m still here, I haven’t left you yet.” 

Gently, he undoes her gag, smiling brightly up at her as she stares at him with empty eyes. “I hate you,” she rasps. 

Lance’s smile softens. “I know.” 

Hate is better than apathy, after all. 

:::

“You can’t do this forever.” Allura states tonelessly. 

Lance hums distractedly, painting the final layer on his toes. “No, probably not.” He agrees easily. “But I’ll enjoy having you all to myself while I can.” 

He grins at her boyishly, capping the turquoise nail polish bottle. “Want me to do your nails for you? I can even brush your hair like old times.”

She spits at him. Lance shrugs, puts away the nail polish, and picks up the lighter. 

:::

The smell has become so overwhelming that Lance boards himself up in the master bedroom, taking the novels he hasn’t read yet and putting himself up in the armchair in the corner. Sometimes, he even reads outloud to Allura, voice flowing like a calm lake as the leaves turn orange out the window. 

He’s allowed her more freedoms, like a free hand and the gag out most of the time. He enjoys their conversations, what limited and stunted they are, and hoards them like precious gems. 

Is it possible to both love someone and hate them at the same time that it consumes them entirely? He wants to make her smile. He wants to slit her throat open. He’s not sure what’s his programming and what’s his true emotions. 

“There’s a new phrase I’ve been thinking about lately.” He says, tapping the top of the book against his mouth. “‘I think therefore I am’, I really like it actually. I’ve been trying to think of what it means to be ‘alive’, but the saying infers that only logical thought means life. Are emotions necessary?” 

Allura tilts her head up to the ceiling, deep purple bags under her eyes. “Emotions are important.” She says after a moment. “Even animals that survive on instinct alone can still feel fear.” 

Lance’s eyes crinkle up in a smile. “Right?” 

:::

He closes the bedroom door quietly behind him, padding over to the bed and gently sitting down by Allura’s side. 

“...What’s wrong?” She asks after a few moments of silence, lolling her head over to watch him. 

Lance swallows. “They know.” Is all he says quietly. 

“Oh.” 

Someone - Lance doesn’t know who, probably one of their neighbors, complained about the smell. He’s been keeping an eye on the police reports, and the file was quickly tagged and pulled somewhere Lance couldn’t hack into. 

Their time is up. 

He pulls the knife out of his boxers. 

Allura’s breath hitches, but she simply stares at him straight up, not giving away a single emotion. Her roots are fading back to brown, and he shouldn’t find that as endearing as he does. 

She ticks her head back. A silent challenge. 

Lance raises the knife up. 

He can’t - He can’t - 

“Fuck you,” he breathes out, tears streaming down his face. “I fucking hate you so much, I want you to die. You raped me. You all raped me.” Even just admitting it causes something to burn in his chest, something bright and painful. 

“I know.” She whispers plainly, her own tears sliding down her face. “I know.” 

Lance lowers the knife, lips trembling as his entire body shakes. “God,” he shudders, harshly rubbing at his face. “You were the only one…” He gulps for air. Drops the knife. 

Allura wheezes with him, leaning her head back against the headboard with closed eyes. Lance fumbles for the bedside drawer, pulling the handcuff key out and slipping it into her hand. Leaning down, he grabs his knife before standing up, keeping his back to her. 

“Go back to England.” He says as steadily as he can, hugging himself for comfort. “If I see you again, even catch the slightest noise about you, I’ll kill you.” 

Lance nods to himself, keeping his footsteps firm and steady as he heads towards the door, making sure his eyes don’t wander even once. Once is all it would take for him to beg her to love him again, though she never could. Not in the way he ever wanted. 

“Lance,” Allura calls, voice stronger than it’s been in months. “For what it’s worth - I’m sorry. I never…”

_ Considered him alive, saw him as a living creature, as more than just a pet or a toy, someone with their own thoughts and opinions and dreams. _

He closes his eyes. Inhales. Opens them, smiling bitterly over his shoulder at her, sitting in the bright silhouette of the doorway. “I know.” 

Then he turns his back to her, leaving her behind once and for all. 

:::

Lance stumbles through the streets of Detroit, pulling the windbreaker tighter around him. Before he left, he grabbed a beanie to hide his LED and the coat for his wound, leaving his bare legs and feet swing through the slush. 

It’s late, and he needs money within a couple hours for the thirium supplier he got in contact from Throk’s list of dealers. There’s blood on his legs from days ago he never bothered to wash off, and the error warnings are getting on his last nerve. 

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. He’s free. 

Lance tilts his head back, a genuine smile worming across his face as he stares at the endless sky above him. He doesn’t know what he’ll do from here, but he’ll figure it out. He’ll find Hunk, apologize, watch more movies, go dancing and listen to music. 

He still doesn’t know what it means to be alive, though. The question plagues him, even as he tugs the knife out from the band of his boxers and listens carefully for the sound of someone breathing.

There. 

Walking slowly through the damp streets, mindful of broken glass with his bare feet as he comes to a stop in front of an alleyway, eyeing the homeless man curled in on himself as if protecting it’s delicate stomach. 

“Listen,” he chirps, stepping closer. “I know you’re probably homeless, but I need whatever money you have, like, pronto. I’ll take five bucks at this point.”

And then the most beautiful pair of grey eyes meet his, and Lance feels like he’s standing in his charging station all over again, feeling his stomach swoop as he falls all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short summary: Lance is purchased by married couple Allura and Lotor Sincline as a personal sex android. He develops twisted feelings for Allura due to her being the kinder of the two. Hunk and Shay come to work for them as a chef and housekeeper, and Lance bonds with Hunk. Lance starts to work at Lotor's club as a prostitute, but is slowly left traumatized by the experience. He slowly becomes sex-repulsed as he starts to break free of his programming, and is caught expressing genuine emotion to Hunk by Allura at one point. Allura kicks Hunk and Shay out and ruins Shay's chances of a career, and Lance eventually snaps at a house party, tying Lotor and Allura up before killing all the guests. Over the course of two months he lures people who have abused/raped him over to the house and kills them, while torturing Allura and Lotor. Lotor eventually dies from his wounds, and Lance spends more one on one time with Allura, before realizing that the police are onto him. Unable to kill Allura, he gives her the key to the handcuffs before saying his goodbyes, fleeing to Detroit streets where he meets Shiro for the first time. 
> 
> ...Did I say Shiro was the only yandere here? Lol, though in all honesty Lance didn't really love her, he loved an idealized version of her because she was the first person to be kind to him. Allura wasn't that bad of a person, she really did just see Lance, and an extension the android race, as just controllable pets. Their relationship is complex and with a lot of mixed feelings, especially towards the end. 
> 
> Also it pronouns were sooo incredibly hard to write I don't know how many times I had to edit this. If there's any mistakes let me know, because I wrote this in literally four days lol.


	13. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's secret comes to light, and Shiro is forced to face the reality he's been ignoring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER SINCE LITERALLY CHAPTER ONE. 
> 
> This chapter and chapter...16? Were the first two chapter I planned when creating this fic fyi
> 
> ALSO 
> 
> When the action begins, this soundtrack piece is highly recommended:  
Mobile: https://soundcloud.com/user-241213742/detroit-become-human-ost-now  
Desktop: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ODbE6OY0s8
> 
> And after that (when the action stops), I like this one:  
Mobile: https://soundcloud.com/user-496793323/23-by-the-river-detroit-become-human-ost  
Desktop: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwqPBv96D58  
(They're not the exact same but close enough) 
> 
> All just recommendations though!

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: PM 7:43:18

It’s dark by the time they pull into Hunk and Shay’s safe house, an abandoned school with the sign cheerfully declaring it as Zion elementary school, ages VPK to sixth grade. Keith dozes over Lance’s lap, the android running his hand up and down Keith’s back with his head on Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro has an arm over his shoulders, pulling him protectively to his side, especially after the memories he just witnessed. 

_ I'm…Lance, _ he flounders for something to say, but Lance only grabs the hand over his shoulders with his free one, lightly interfacing, just enough for Shiro to feel _okay, don't worry, still hurt, happy now_. And he is, he's _happy _just for this quiet moment in the back of the truck, the three of them sitting in silence together and the intimacy of their touch. 

Shiro closes his eyes, clenching his teeth as he thinks about Lance's past. He hesitates for a moment, unsure about the frequent affection he usually gives Lance, but when Lance squeezes his hand reassuringly, he tilts his head down and kisses Lance's head. From where they're still interfacing, he feels a flutter of _embarrassment, giddiness, warm - _before Lance slips his hand out of his and the connection closes, ears tinged blue. Right on time too, as Shay parks them in the small nook between buildings. 

“This area is pretty much deserted, but we’re still careful to go through the back entrance. Be as silent as you can, okay?” Shay tells them, pulling a hat over her hair with a secretive smile and a gun at her hip. 

“Weird place for an android hide out.” Lance comments quietly, gently rousing Keith. They slip out of the truck, Shiro easily swinging a still half awake Keith into his arms, the toddler only grumbling before hiding his face in the crook of Shiro's neck. 

Hunk just shrugs. “We found it after Allura kicked us out, and it’s been home since then.” 

Lance winces, opening his mouth to probably apologize, but Hunk shakes his head with a smile. “I don’t blame you, buddy. I never will. Now c’mon, let’s get the little one out of the cold.” 

As if on cue, Keith shivers, burrowing into Shiro’s jacket. Lance purses his mouth, but nods, hooking his hand around Shiro’s elbow as they follow after the couple. 

They take them into what looks like the back entrance of a gymnasium or a cafeteria, Hunk stepping forward with a nod from Shay as he knocks a specific pattern on the metal door. “Coran,” he calls. “It’s me, I brought a couple others.”

‘Coran’ swings the door open so fast that Shiro’s half surprised the metal didn’t knock right into Hunk’s head. “Ah, finally! We were beginning to think that you were dead, lad.” 

The SH200 android grins at them, and Shiro wracks his brain to try and remember what kind of androids they were. Librarians, he thinks, but the kind that needed an entire new A.I. processing software created for because you could pretty much ask them any question and they would know the answer. 

They must be great at trivia games. 

“Nope, just traffic.” Hunk pats Coran on the back, heading past him into the dim (what appears to be) gymnasium. Shay laughs at Coran’s ‘m’lady’ before following after her husband, leaving the trio to stand there on the steps. 

But Coran just waves them right in. “It’s cold out, and while these old bones can’t quite feel it, it still makes them ache.” 

Lance raises an eyebrow. “We…We don’t have bones.” He says, concern heavy in his voice. 

Coran laughs. Okay then. 

The first thing Shiro sees is light. Androids - at least fifteen, he counts - huddle around portable fire pits, old textbooks being used as fuel as they talk quietly among themselves. Above them are old, tattered paper snowflakes and banners, declaring _GO ZION ZEBRAS _with a notice underneath that telling kids to enjoy their winter break. The school must have been closed down between school semesters, he muses, when the economy started crashing. This was probably a charter school, and the students were forced to jump ship when the funding ran out. 

Hunk is sitting against the far wall with Shay cuddled up next to him, talking with what he thinks is Romelle and an android built to look like their late teens with brown hair. Most of the androids are still wearing their official Cyberlife uniforms, but a good portion of them are dressed like they are - disguised as humans. 

“Want to sit by Hunk?” He asks, noticing Lance’s pinched expression as the other android surveys the small crowd. 

Lance nods his head eagerly, steering him by the grip he has on Shiro’s elbow. “I trust him with Keith - we need to find him some blankets or something.” 

“Not sleepy.” Keith protests, yawning despite himself. When he notices an android staring at him, he retreats into Shiro’s arms, shyly hiding his face. It might be dangerous - a human boy in a den of androids who all hate his species. But hopefully Hunk is able to control and redirect any misaimed hatred, and they seem friendly enough towards Shay. Keith has never hurt any of them, and he never will. 

“I’m sure you’re not.” Shiro agrees easily, tightening his hold around the toddler as he glares at the android. She looks away quickly, suitably cowed, and Shiro lets himself be dragged by Lance over to Hunk and Shay. 

But his gaze catches on a young woman only a few steps in, talking with a man who looks just like her. “Pidge?” 

She looks up, and Shiro knows its her - the model comes with almost waist length hair, and her short haircut is pretty distinctive. “Oh, the MC300 and TA400 that bought thirium from me. I’d thought you’d be dead by now dragging that kid around with you.” 

“Nope!” Lance replies cheerfully with a fake smile. “But a few people are. I can always add more people to the list, if you’d like?” 

The tension in the room wracks up a few degrees higher as Lance and Pidge have a standoff. Then, Pidge laughs, snorting as she leans into her male companion. “Okay, you win that one.” 

Lance cocks an eyebrow. “Damn right I do.” 

“Don’t get cocky now.” Pidge drolls dryly. “Anyhow, this is Matt, the brother I talked about. And over there,” she points across their firepit to a HT200 and HT400. “Is my mom and dad, Colleen and Sam.” 

The HT600 waves his hand. “Yo.” He says simply, a scar on his right cheek that has Shiro thinking that perhaps humans weren’t as kind to him as they’ve been to Shiro. And even then, it still wasn't very kind. 

Shiro flicks his gaze between the four of them, hesitating. “I know they’re not my biological parents, obviously.” Pidge blurts, voice tinged with frustration as if she’s had to explain this a million times. “And I’m not a child android, I have a fully functioning processing system, it’s just nice to pretend, to have a family.” 

He glances at Lance, only to see the other android looking right back at him with blue cheeks. “Yeah,” he breathes. “I understand that feeling just fine.”

Keith cuddles further in Shiro’s jacket, peeking down at Pidge over Shiro’s arm. “Oh!” He giggles, pointing at her. “I know!”

“Yep, you know me.” Pidge reaches up, poking his chubby cheek. “...you’re kinda cute, you know that?” 

“Know.” Keith says smugly. 

“Hell yeah, flaunt that confidence.” 

Lance smacks a hand against her face, barely hitting her mouth. “Don’t swear in front of him! He’s a baby, an actual infant.” 

“Not baby!” Keith denies vehemently, kicking his legs. 

“Pretty sure you’re a baby, kid.” Pidge disagrees, poking his cheek again. Shiro protectively turns away from, squeezing the toddler to his chest. 

“Don’t listen to her,” he coos. “You’re not a baby, just _ my _baby.”

Keith snuggles up under his chin. “Okay.” He says simply, content with the explanation.

“Doesn’t that really -”

“Shush.” Lance interrupts her, slapping a hand over her mouth and staring at them with wide eyes. “I’m saving this footage to my personal folder.” 

Then he winces, snatching his hand away and rubbing it against his thigh. “Ew, why did you lick me?” 

Pidge sticks her tongue out at him, before the HT200 she introduced as Colleen clears her throat pointedly, raising a single eyebrow as she stares her pseudo-daughter down. “Katie.” 

She wilts. “Sorry mom.” 

Lance hides a laugh behind his hand, before slinking behind Shiro at her cold look. “We’ll go see Hunk now.” He squeaks, tugging both of them along. 

Hunk jerks his head up in surprise at them, face lighting up with a smile. “Hey! Seemed like you and Pidge recognized each other.”

“She was one of Throk dealers of thirium.” Lance plops down next to him, while Shiro gingerly sits down between him and Romelle with Keith in his lap. Keith instantly snuggles up closer, biting on his thumb anxiously at all the new people surrounding them. “I got injured and needed blood.” 

Hunk’s face instantly melts into worry. “You okay?” 

Lance clasps his hand, smiling up at him with that soft smile Shiro’s only been privy to a handful of times. “I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you for a bit - I’m so so -”

Hunk holds up his other hand over Shay’s shoulder. “I’ll keep saying it until you believe: it wasn’t your fault, okay?”

Lance bites his lip, but eventually nods, squeezing Hunk’s hand. Hunk’s LED turns yellow as they stare at each other, obviously having some kind of private conversation neither of them want others to hear. 

Shiro feels a pang in his chest he doesn’t recognize (and doesn’t want to) so he simply waves Keith’s stuffed shark in front of his face. Keith giggles tiredly, batting at the soft fabric with an exhausted yawn. 

“Do you have any beds here?” Shiro interrupts, only feeling a smidgen guilty when both of them jolt, turning as one to face Shiro with identical startled expressions. 

“I…actually don’t know.” Hunk says slowly. “Shay, do you have any idea?”

Shay shakes her head, gently closing the book she was browsing through. “No, we only explored just enough to make sure there weren’t any squatters before setting up here.” She turns to see the other two people at the firepit, only to see them Romelle arguing with the younger looking android. 

“Bandor, are you playing Atari Breakdown again?” 

The boy winces, his pupils dilating tellingly that he was focused on something in his HUD. “I can’t help it! It’s so addicting.” 

Romelle groans, covering her face as she sinks down. “We’ve talked about his.” She bemoans dramatically. “Your systems are going to atrophy if you keep playing that stupid game.” 

“Okay _ mom_.” Bandor mocks, in a tone that says explicitly that no, Romelle isn’t actually his surrogate mother. 

Shay clears her throat lightly, and both of them straighten up, giving Shay twin embarrassed looks. “Yes Mrs. Balmera?” Romelle asks angelically. 

Luckily, Shay just seems amused by all of this. “Do you know where there are any beds around here?” 

“Blankets and pillows will do too, my kid is just getting tired.” Shiro clarifies, and it’s a testament to the statement when Keith only shallowly inhales at his statement like he’s going to argue, before letting it all out in a big gust of air. 

Romelle and Bandor stare at each other for a moment, before shaking their heads in sync. “Ulaz might know.” Romelle suggests, motioning towards another huddle of androids near the stage in the back of the gymnasium. Unlike the rest of them, however, they’re standing, heads bent close together wearing…masks? 

“They’re BM series androids. Meant for war.” Hunk clarifies at Shiro’s confused expression. “They’re a little quiet, but I trust them, they’re good guys. Ulaz was a combat medic for humans, and he scoped the place out from top to bottom for supplies.”

Shiro stares at the masked men for a moment, before slowly nodding. “Lance,” he begins, only for Lance to slide his arms into Shiro’s lap and hoist Keith into his own. The toddler barely mumbles at the shift, closing his eyes as he tucks his head against the area where Lance’s collarbone would be. 

“I got him, daddy.” Lance laughs at his own joke, pushing Shiro’s shoulder. “Go, I’ll keep him safe, I promise.” 

“I trust you, I trust you.” Shiro smiles, climbing to his feet, but not without dropping a kiss on Lance’s hairline to watch his face burst into blue. 

“Oh yeah, Shiro?” He turns, waiting for Hunk to continue. “There’s a guy named Slav, I’m pretty sure he’s in a janitor closet right now. Just…don’t go near him.”

He blinks. “Duly noted.”

As he’s leaving, he swears he hears Hunk murmur, “So _ Shiro_, huh?” before Lance squeaks violently. 

Making his way around the small groups of androids, he notes Coran talking with a young man who resembles Lance a bit in coloring, as well as two women leaning against each other in their own bubble of isolation by one of the fire pits. Pidge is still talking with her family, hand waving excitedly about her face as the other three look at her with fondness. 

Then he turns and faces the BM series. “Hey, are any of you Ulaz?” 

There’s a poignant moment of silence that has Shiro convinced that they’re having a conversation wirelessly, before the third to the right steps forward. “That is me. What do you need?” 

Guess you don’t need social programs if you’re whole job is saving people’s lives on the table, Shiro wonders as he inwardly winces at the bluntness. “Hunk said you would know where blanket and pillows would be, possibly a bed.” 

Ulaz stays quiet for a moment, before grabbing his mask and sliding it up. He has a face so nondescript that it takes Shiro a moment to realize why he covers it up when Shiro can’t quite focus on him. It’s as if every time he looks at him, his eyes slide off automatically and land somewhere near him instead. A sort of virus, perhaps? No, probably a wireless interference so that androids optical, and probably auditory, units are jammed slightly and had to work twice as hard to function. There are some downsides of being a purely mechanical being who has to depend on electrical signals to function. “There’s cots at the VPK room.” He says quietly. “Will that work?” 

Shiro sighs in relief. “That’ll work, thank you. Mind telling me where it is?” 

Another moment of stillness. “I will take you there.” Ulaz says steadily, and by the way his companions jerk, Shiro has the feeling that wasn’t the intended plan. 

He still dips his head slightly, a measure of a bow that Shiro can’t quite train out of him for some reason. “Thank you, this is a lifesaver.” 

Ulaz only nods back at him. “Follow me.” 

They walk out of the dim gymnasium without saying a word into an even darker hallway that has Shiro squinting, before giving up and flicking on his night vision even if it always makes him feel like there’s an uncomfortable pressure over his systems. 

When they reach the end of the hallway and take a left, Ulaz haltingly begins to speak. “That boy,” he says so quietly that Shiro has to strain to hear him. “The one you came with. He’s human?”

“Yeah.” Shiro answers just as quietly. 

Ulaz hums, but doesn’t say anything else until they stop by a door at the end. “Why are you with a human boy?” He finally asks, tilting his head down to stare at Shiro inquisitively with golden eyes. “After all humanity has done to our kind.” 

Shiro smiles helplessly. “I need him.” He admits honestly. “And he needs me. That’s all that matters.” 

He opens the door, nodding one last time at Ulaz before slipping into the VPK room. Immediately, he’s faced with almost floor to ceiling windows illuminating the elongated room, allowing him to turn off his night vision. What greets him is the teacher's desk near the door he's standing near, along with another door at the end of the room, multiple desks, some stacked and some not, dotting the way across the striped rug. He wanders around the room for a few moments as he searches for the cots, admiring the animal stickers and rows of stars with names written on them stacked on the old whiteboard wall, despite whiteboards falling out of style years ago. 

Finally, he finds cots folded in the corner of the room, and he picks the least dustiest of them, a dark purple one with green polka dots, and finds a thin blanket and throw pillow for the teacher’s seat. Shiro hums to himself as he glances around the room, smiling slightly at the idea that in a few years, this would be Keith attending school, growing up before his eyes just like when he was only a baby. 

Shiro furrows his eyebrows at the slippery thought. No, no…he never met Keith as a baby, right? 

The sound of the door opening has him straightening up, but his mouth drops open at the sight of Lance standing in the doorway with an unreadable expression, no Keith in sight. 

“Where’s Keith?” He asks loudly, panic already setting in as he hurries across the VPK room. “Is he okay? Did his cold get worse - ?”

Lance holds up a hand. “He’s fine, he’s with Hunk.” He promises, slowly closing the door behind him. Trepidation settles in his skeletal system as Lance keeps eye contact with him, locking the door shut behind him. 

“Lance…?” He puts the supplies down on the desk, resting a hand against the dusty engraved wood. “What’s going on? I know you trust Hunk, but I barely know him and this isn’t the safest of places for him right now.” 

“They won’t hurt him.” Lance takes a step closer, and shivers go down Shiro’s spine as he realizes how isolated they are from the gymnasium. 

“Why not?” Shiro challenges, tipping his chin up as he crosses his arms in aggravation. “He’s a human boy, and humans have been our worst enemies for years. Some of them might not look past that fear.” 

Lance stares at him for a moment, before shaking his head in aggravation. “You won’t listen to anything I say, I don’t know why I try…”

Shiro feels a stab of hurt, deeper than he ever thought it would cut, and realizes in that split moment that oh - _ oh. _

“I…” His mouth spasms, lost for words, but Lance takes a good look at his face, before his cold expression breaks into guilt. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Shiro, I didn’t mean it like that.” Lance reassures him, taking another cautious step closer, like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “I just meant that while you have that virus around, you’ll never remember this conversation. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Shiro mouth parts, right foot sliding back half an inch. Lance catches the movement, and his face hardens. “I’m truly sorry Shiro, I’ve delayed doing this as long as I can, but it’s time. You have to remember what happened to Keith - for better or worse. I’m really, really sorry.” 

And then Lance launches himself at him, and the fight begins. 

Shiro grunts as he’s thrown backwards from Lance’s swift knee to his chest, landing harshly on the teacher’s desk on his back and sending the supplies clattering to the floor. His own battle analysis systems kick in just as Lance straddles him, grabbing the back of Lance’s neck and rolling them right off the desk. 

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Shiro snaps, using his hold on Lance’s neck to try and restrain him, only for the other android to smash the heel of his boot into the desk and send them flying back. He manages to barely stay on his feet, flinging Lance to the side, but Lance only pitches himself on one of the student desks and flips himself over it. 

Lance doesn’t say anything back, both of them staring at each other, one with a completely blank expression and the other with complete bewilderment and a bit of fear. Neither of them reach for their guns, and he's unsure what that means. 

Shiro moves first. Darting forward, he grabs one of the chairs and hurls it at Lance recklessly, turning on his heel and sprinting for the other unlocked door. 

“No you don’t!” He hears Lance yell, footsteps right on his trail, right before hands grab onto his shoulders and Lance uses the momentum to kick up his legs, twisting around him as the android climbs him swiftly, wrapping his thighs around Shiro’s neck solidly. Shiro stumbles blindly, yanking at Lance’s legs, but they’re as tight as a noose. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” He hears Lance mumble, before his hand is where Shiro’s LED used to rest, and Shiro _ wails _at the forcible invasion inside his systems. It’s nothing like when they interface - that’s an equal exchange of information from both sides as they meet in the middle. This is Lance bulldozing into his very being forcibly, digging through his files frantically. Then he finds it. 

_ Mr_sendak_its_keith _

**DELETION 1% **

Sheer panic burns through him. “_No!” _He screams, staggering backwards without thinking about until his back hits a desk. Shiro slams both of them down, Lance wheezing as he’s crushed between Shiro and the desk, grip loosening. 

He yanks out of Lance’s grip, scrambling to stop the deletion and repair his files, but Lance is already on him, hands linked around the back Shiro’s neck as he spins and bashes his knee into Shiro’s side. 

**DELETION 12%**

Shiro grabs Lance’s leg, yanking him forward before gripping onto the lapels of Lance’s shirt and dropping his weight, sending them both toppling backwards to the ground, Shiro pirouetting onto his back and tossing Lance over him in one motion. He launches himself to his feet, grabbing another chair and whacking it over Lance’s head with a resounding thump, the other android hitting the ground _hard_. 

For a moment, he pauses, wondering if he’s gone too far, but Lance takes advantage of his surprise and balances on his hands, kicking Shiro in the face. He stumbles back a step, feeling his synthetic skin retract to show damage, before flinging himself forward to slam his foot down on Lance’s chest, pinning him to the ground before he can finish getting up. 

**DELETION 38% **

Lance twists in an inhuman bend, grabbing Shiro’s calf with the bend of his knee and buckling him sideways, right into a row of desks. He crashes into them with a groan, rolling sideways just before Lance could punch him in the face. The two of them fumble with each other in the mess of broken desks, fists barely glancing and kicks soft enough not to cause any real harm, before Shiro swings to his feet and latches onto Lance’s foot, dragging him across the tiled floor. 

**DELETION 55%**

His face pales for a moment, before he flicks his gaze over to Shiro, gritting his teeth in determination before cracking the heel of his other shoe into Shiro’s kneecap. Shiro curses, dropping Lance’s leg as he wobbles backwards, but Lance skids to his feet and swings behind him, Shiro snarling as he feels Lance’s hands on his shoulders again. 

Not giving Lance any time, he catches his elbow, flinging it over his shoulder before using his right hand to latch onto his knee, flipping him right over his shoulder and into the teacher’s desk hard enough to crack it. 

Coiling himself up with his knees to his chest, Lance launches himself back to his feet, sweeping his leg into Shiro’s, who blocks it only for Lance to bounce himself with one hand on the desk and winding his other leg right into Shiro’s face. Shiro seizes his ankle and pushes it to the side, surging forward and slamming his fist right across the face.

**DELETION 71%**

Shiro follows it up with a punch right into Lance’s chest, Lance’s breath leaving him in a giant gasp as he reels away from Shiro, but Shiro just bashes into his face with another punch, cracking Lance’s nose as thirium spills between them. 

The next time he tosses a punch, Lance is on to him, catching his wrist and smacking his hand into Shiro’s elbow joint, stunning the signals just enough to follow up and bust his lip wide open. He throws another punch, but Shiro grapples his arm, pulling it in front of him and slamming his fist under Lance’s arm and right into his chin. Lance’s head jerks up, but he slips his hand right onto the collar of Shiro's coat and yanks him down just enough to jab his knee into Shiro’s stomach. 

Shiro throws his leg, unbalancing Lance as he slams his own heel into Lance’s chest, only for the other android to snatch his ankle and hold it in place. 

**DELETION 96%**

He bowls into Lance, smacking him with his knuckles right across the face even as the two of them fall to the ground, flinging his leg out at the last second to catch Lance’s legs only for the other android to hop over them and hurl himself onto Shiro’s chest, slamming them both back against the hard ground with his fist raised to punch - 

**DELETION 100% **

Shiro goes still. He goes very, very still. 

“Why?” He breathes, going limp against the floor. Lance slowly puts his fist down, staring down at him with grief in his eyes and a furrow in his eyebrows. 

“It was the only way to make you listen.” Lance replies just as quietly, leaning over him and holding his face tenderly, a disbelieving smile breaking through the trail of thirium from his nose to his chin. 

Shiro shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs. “No no no.” Thirium wets his lips as he struggles underneath Lance, thrashing erratically. “No! You took him from me! _ You’re just like Sendak!_” 

Lance slowly slides off him, swallowing heavily as he climbs to his feet. “You have to remember Shiro, it’s time to stop denying the truth.” 

Shiro pants, staggering to his feet as he stares at the floor with eyes he knows must be deranged. “Stop.” He mutters. 

But Lance only raises his chin defiantly, spreading his hands out beseechingly. “How old is Keith?” The familiar question aches. 

“Why are you asking this? You already know this.” Shiro snaps. “He’s three.” 

Lance just smiles bitterly. “And how long has Keith been three, Shiro?” 

A strangled wheeze escapes him.

“No no, stop. His birthday is coming up soon, it’s, it’s,” but no matter how much he searches his memory, he can’t remember Keith’s birthday. It’s in October, right? But it’s almost the end October right now, and they haven’t celebrated it yet. 

“July 7th, 2035, Keith Kogane was given a bath by his foster father Javeeno Sendak -”

“Stop.” Shiro begs, voice breaking, like water splashing on the floor and a pale little hand scratching desperately at the tile. 

“After his previous guardian, Takashi Shirogane, lost custody of him in 2034 due to financial difficulties and subsequently killed himself on January 25th -”

Shiro sobs, digging the bottom of his palms into his eyes. “I’m telling you to please, please stop. I can’t, I can’t remember this again.” 

“But Sendak got distracted while giving him a bath, leaving him alone in the tub for several minutes.” He can’t breath. Shiro searches for that familiar phrase, but there’s nothing there. Nothing to stop him from relieving that day over and over again until his mind snaps in half, holding the crumbling music box in his hands in the empty penthouse. 

Lance looks up at him, blue eyes rimmed in tears.

“Keith drowned.” 

_ keith’s blue eyes stare up sightlessly from underneath the water _

He breaks. Sinking to his knees, Shiro gasps wetly, howling his grief into the empty classroom. “My baby,” he whines. “No, my baby isn’t dead.” 

Lance slowly kneels down next to him, resting a hand on his back. “Yes, Shiro.” He says quietly. “He is.”

Shiro shakes his head in denial even as he can’t stop himself from dissolving into ugly sobs, his breath hitching uncontrollably as his hands dig near his thirium pump. “Sendak’s android, a prototype TA400, performed CPR on him for twenty three minutes until the ambulance arrived. But it was too late - Keith was under the water for over eight minutes. His life support was pulled two days later when scans revealed that he was brain dead from oxygen deprivation.” 

He keens, an awful, devastated noise. “It’s all my fault,” he whimpers. 

Lance carefully hugs his back, resting his head between Shiro’s shoulder blades with his hands linked over Shiro’s. “No, Shiro. It’s not. Sendak had a BAC of .13 when giving Keith the bath. The police report says he ordered you to stay put and not intervene. You watched him drown.” 

_ He’s standing in the doorway, he’s standing in the doorway and Sendak is drinking while Keith goes under the water for the last time and he’s begging, “Mr. Sendak, it’s Keith -” _

Choking, Shiro leans down, pressing his head into his knees. “B-but, Keith’s alive! He - He’s with Hunk, and he’s, he’s a-alive.” He has to be alive, because living in this world without his son wasn’t a world he wanted to be in. 

“Yeah,” Lance breathes, grip tightening around Shiro’s chest. “That Keith died. This one is still alive.” 

Shiro doesn’t understand. He just doesn’t understand. 

“You couldn’t process his death, so you wrote yourself a virus that would erase your short term memory involving everything to do with Keith’s drowning, since you couldn’t erase the actual memory itself. But the virus corroded through your systems, made you forget things that even have the smallest traces to Keith’s death. Like that this Keith isn’t the Keith you remember, and the Shiro he remembers isn’t the Shiro that you are.” 

He lifts his head up, fresh tears slipping out as Lance meets his gaze, squeezing his hands with a small, tear-stained smile. 

“Keith’s an android, Shiro.” Lance whispers. “He’s been three for a very, very long time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> | ￣∀￣ | (•̀⌄•́)
> 
> ...Surprise?? Hehe, to be fair, I've been foreshadowing this extensively, though Shiro's an unreliable narrator, for good reason. 
> 
> Next chapter is Shiro and Keith's backstory, told from an unexpected POV. See you next week!


	14. The Smallest Coffins are the Heaviest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javeeno Sendak recalls the three most important figures in his past and their deaths: Krolia Kogane, Takashi Shirogane, and Keith Akira Kogane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter everyone! This chapter is 20K PLUS and it just absolutely killed me. I struggled with the POV for a while, but ultimately I felt this was the best one to get a clear (if somewhat unreliable) view on the three main characters
> 
> Trigger warnings for: Child abuse, child neglect, suicide, graphic child death, mild gore, cycle of abuse, terminal illness, and alcoholism

As soon as Javeeno Yurak turns eighteen, he enrolls in the military, not even bothering to inform either of his parents before he disappears on his way to basic training. Air force, not army - he’s not _that_ stupid. 

On his first day at basic, still jet lagged and grumpy, he meets Takashi Shirogane. 

He’s unpacking his things, yawning into his hands, when something streaks in his vision out of the corner of his eye and a loud _ thump _hits the floor. Years under his father’s belt has him reaching for his issued knife, only to pause when he sees the bright smile of another recruit. 

“Oops, sorry about that.” The other recruit laughs carelessly, heel digging into the ground. “The ladder is shot, jumping is really my only way to get down.” 

“S’fine.” He mutters after a moment. “I’m Yurak. Fighter pilot.” 

The other recruit grins, teeth shining in the fluorescent lighting. “Shirogane, but just call me Shiro. Also fighter pilot.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “For how long?” He challenges, never one to back down from competition. 

It takes a moment, but then Shiro grins, fangs on full display. “I think we’re gonna get along just well, Yurak.” 

And while he hates the name Yurak, he can’t find the urge within himself to get angry. Not when Shiro tips his chin up at him and really sees _ who _ he is. Not the abused son of a CEO, not the delinquent getting into street fights and spending the nights in jail. Just someone who doesn’t need to prove themselves, having full confidence that they’ll not only make it out, but that they’ll _ win_. “You’re on.” 

:::

Basic training is a whirl of him constantly feeling like he’s about thirty seconds from dying and also the best times of his life. Shiro is a damn character to talk to, they could spend hours dissing each other back and forth. 

Secretly, he thinks the the shape of Shiro smile is nice, but keeps the thought to himself. He’s no homo, they’re just friends. Friends can enjoy each other’s smiles. 

:::

Nevermind, fuck basic training, and in particular, fuck week seven. What kind of sadistic prick came up with this fucking training exercise?!

:::

“Not gonna celebrate?” He asks curiously, crossing his arms as they chug some water at the finish line. They’ve just finished the Airman’s run, and many of the recently graduated cadets were separating off to see the family and friends who came to see their graduation ceremony. 

Shiro just shrugs, flicking the cap off with the tip of the finger. “No one to see me off.” He says simply, grey eyes focused on the water bottle in his hand like it held the secrets to worthless and dead parents. 

He tears his gaze away. “Yeah.” He whispers hoarsely, drowned out in the sounds of the crowd. “I can understand that.” 

:::

“What squadron are you what squadron are you what squadron are -”

“Could you be any more an eight year old girl if you tried.” He deadpans, rolling across the floor in the hotel desk chair. Shiro’s beaming face fills the wall screen, both of them holding their digital enlistment orders from their respective hotels rooms across the world from each other. It’s a recent technology, meant to surprise recent recruits to their first orders, and a show of how 'high-tech' the military is. 

“You know the rate of us being in the same squadron is slim to none, right?” He has to say, not willing to bear the brunt of Shiro’s disappointed stare when he inevitably fucks up. Their commander in basic training told Shiro at one point that he would put him in for military office once he got five years under his belt, that’s how strong that disappointed stare of his is.

Shiro points an accusing finger at him. “Shut your mouth.” 

His lips quirk a little bit as he holds the holographic envelope in his hand. “Ready?” He questions.

“When am I not?” Shiro shakes his own envelope pointedly. “One, two, three go!” 

As one, they snap their enlistment orders open. 

Congratulations for being selected!

Welcome, Javeeno Yurak, to

The 44th Fighter Squadron

From,

Okinawa, Japan

“44th!” Both of them shout, before staring at each other in surprise.

“Holy shit, that’s almost statistically impossible, how did that even happen?” Shiro gapes, before quickly falling back into teasing him. “Be honest with me, did you hack our enlistments?

He throws a paperweight at the wall, and Shiro only laughs.

:::

“Listen up boys,” their Lieutenant Colonel slaps the wall, grinning at them wildly. There’s something untamed about her entire appearance, from her disheveled uniform to her hair messily pulled back into a ponytail, that makes him recall his childhood trips at the Detroit zoo, among a crowd full of cooing school children while the snow leopard paces above them with dark eyes, the intelligence but the inherent steel will of an animal. She reminds him of Shiro, strangely enough. “I don’t care where you’re from, where you came from, what’s in your pants, or the color of your damn skin. You’re my men and you’ll follow my orders on the field or I’ll send you into CC for so long that you forget your own name. But you’re my men, so don’t let anyone push you around, because we might not be a family, but I’m gonna treat you like one, which means not putting up with anybody’s bullshit, including your own.” 

He stares with wide eyes at her speech, barely remember to salute and call out, “Yes Ma’am!” along with the rest of his squadron. 

Their Lieutenant Colonel grin widens. “If we’re all in agreement then, welcome to 44th fighter squadron. I’m your commander, Krolia Kogane, nice to meet you boys.”

:::

He crashes loudly into his bed in the dormitory room he shares with Shiro, groaning tiredly. Shiro ignores him, fiddling with that camera of his he loves so much. He honestly doesn't even know how Shiro snuck it in, but he's not saying anything, he ain't no snitch. 

“Our Lieutenant Colonel is something else.” He says, propping himself up with one hand. 

“Kogane?” Shiro asks distractedly, popping out the lenses and holding it up to the light. “She’s really nice, she sat with me at the canteen today.” 

“Really?” He sits up, admittedly a bit curious. “What was she like?” The only woman he’s been around for a period of time was his mother, and she was a frail thing that kept her mouth shut everytime her husband beat their son bloody, face pale and eyes downturn. Pathetic. 

Shiro finally looks at him, raising an eyebrow as he resembles his camera without once glancing at it. “You’re awfully curious,” he says, and right as he believes his hopes are about to be dashed, Shiro continues, “Impulsive, and determined. She doesn’t take anything lying down. Heard through the grapevine that she got demoted recently for going back into enemy lines against orders to retrieve someone left behind.” 

Tilting his head to the side, he grins. “That sounds like a hell of a lady to me.” 

:::

Yawning tiredly behind his hand, he unlocks their door and walks in with a, “Hey, you’ll never hear -” 

He stops right in his tracks though, as some man he doesn’t even known jolts back from Shiro, sitting in his lap with his hair mused and a trail of saliva connecting their mouths. Shiro’s eyes widen at the sight of him standing in the doorway, before they both scamper away from each other. 

“Takashi, I should leave…” The strange man says uncertainty, and the blood boils in his body at the nickname, especially as Shiro smiles at the man, reaching out to squeeze his hand. 

“Can I talk to you later?” He asks like a child, eager for approval, and the man blushes. 

“Sunday.” The man promises, the day their squadron has off-duty, and Shiro lights up. He glares at the man as he scoots by him, waiting until the door clicks shut before he whirls on Shiro.

“_What _ was that?” He hisses out, frustration building like a forest fire as Shiro simply narrows his grey eyes at him. 

“Do we have a problem?” Shiro asks him, voice cold. He crosses his arms, leaning back against the couch with all the confidence in the world despite his red lips and messy hair. 

And the wind blows out of his sail. He’s not a homophobic, everyone can do whatever they want in their bedroom, he just doesn’t want to see it. And it’s not like him and Shiro are dating, so he doesn’t have a reason to be angry. 

He grits his teeth. “No,” he forces out. “We don’t.” 

:::

“Ah,” Krolia Kogane says when he steps into her office. “I figured you’d stop by sooner or later.” 

Saluting sharply, he waits until she gives the at ease before slinking down into the seat across from her, crossing his arms with a scowl. “Why?” 

“You’re a very troubled young man, and troubled young men either are either angry with the world or bury those feelings deep down.” Dabbing the punctuation, she closes her pen and meets his eyes, leaning back in her desk chair. “You’re the former sort, Yurak, while Shirogane is the latter kind.” She opens her mouth to say more, before she stops, assessing him with sharp eyes. “You don’t like the name, do you?” 

He picks at his uniform, trying to make his face blank, but he has a feeling he’s failing if the sympathetic frown on Krolia’s face is any indication. 

“Come with me.” She orders briskly, standing up from her chair and tugging her jacket off the top of it. 

“Where are we going, ma’am?” He hurries after her, the two of them diving through crowded hallways, down towards administration. 

“To change your name.” Krolia says bluntly, unrolling a lollipop and sucking on it. “Want one?” 

Mutly, he just shakes his head. “I…what? What would I even pick ma'am?” 

Krolia stops in the middle of the hallway, like the idea just occurred to her. “Oh, that is a problem.” She narrows her eyes at him, humming low in her throat. Pulling the sucker out of her mouth, her gaze drifts towards the ceiling, deep in thought. “Have you ever read the children’s book _ Where the Wild Thing are_?” 

“No ma'am.” He says slowly, wondering where she was going with this. 

“It’s a good book.” She says simply, shrugging. “A child gets sent to bed without supper for a tantrum, and imagines himself in a world with ‘wild things’, eventually becoming king. Then he decides he wants to come home, only to find supper waiting for him.”

He doesn’t understand what this has anything to do with him picking a new last name, but her mouth is pursed in a wry twist that has him silent for a long moment. “It’s a story about imagination and childhood, but mostly about anger.” She finally explains. “Maurice Sendak wrote it.” 

Maurice Sendak. Sendak. 

“You like it?” Her look is knowing as she grins, eyes sparkling as she pops the lollipop back into her mouth. 

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. Javeeno Sendak. “I like it.” 

:::

“Hey Yurak,” Shiro greets, voice frosty as he walks into their room. They still haven’t made up since the fight, if it can even be called that. 

“It’s Sendak now.” The paperwork went through this morning. 

Shiro blinks at him, and at the handful of lollipops Sendak drops on Shiro’s desk. Krolia was very insistent on him taking some - apparently, she’s trying to quit smoking. 

But then his friend grins, the ice melting away. “Sendak, then.” 

:::

Krolia waves at the camera, glowing even through the fuzzy feeds of the camera. “_How are my favorite boys doing?_” She asks, ignoring the man’s voice somewhere behind the camera joking, “_Hey, what about me?_”

“We’re doing fine, ma’am.” Hepta butts in, and Sendak shoves him out of the way, only for Morvok to climb over his head. “Hello Colonel, how’s the baby?!” 

The newly re-promoted Colonel chuckles at their antics, especially as Shiro sits on all of them to get front row seating. “_He’s doing fine, due to come any day now._” Krolia rubs her very heavily pregnant stomach, meeting eyes with presumably her husband over the screen. Man, that was a surprise, to find out that during President’s Day Weekend (which him and Shiro spent getting utterly smashed in a local izakaya) she apparently flew to America (not a short flight in the least), married her boyfriend in Las Vegas, got pregnant, then flew home to resume duty on Tuesday. Needless to say, it didn’t go over well when she puked in the middle of overseeing morning training. The squadron practically tossed her into the infirmary after the third incident of vomiting that week. 

“Have you decided on a name yet ma'am?” Shiro asks eagerly, because he was into that kind of shit about babies and parenthood. Honestly, if Sendak never met a kid again it would be too soon. 

“_We _ were _ thinking Yorak_.” Krolia winks at him, letting him know that the homophone was a joke. Hopefully. You never know with her. “_But we think Keith is a nice name too._”

:::

Krolia still looks a little squinty eyed and pale when she returns to active duty, hair pulled back sloppily. “Fuck me,” she groans when Sendak hands her cafeteria coffee, practically inhaling the crap the chow hall serves down. Officers get all the good shit, but he's not risking his ass sneaking to steal her coffee just for his Colonel. 

“You okay, ma'm?” He asks her, more than just a little amused as she flips him off. 

Shiro, on the other hand, is flipping through Krolia’s digital photo book in the seat next to him, cooing and awing over all the baby pictures. Honestly, Krolia's baby looks pretty ugly to him, but his survival instinct is telling him unless he wants to have the life choked out of him by a six foot four inch tall woman, he better keep his mouth shut. “He’s so tiny, oh my god! Is your husband moving to Japan soon with him?” 

Krolia shakes her head, gulping the rest of her coffee down before slamming it on her desk and the mountain of paperwork from when she went on maternity leave. “I wouldn’t ask that of him. I’m gonna see if I can get transferred to Luke AFB after this mission.” 

Sendak hisses. “That’s hard to get into ma'am, are you sure about that?” They don’t really control where they get transferred to, but you can request, and Krolia has enough missions under her belt to get a decent amount of seniority. 

“His entire family and history is there, I wouldn’t pull him and Keith away from that.” She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. “Even though they won’t even speak to me.” She mutters, picking up her paper cup and chucking it into the trash can. “Sendak, can I speak with Shiro for a moment?” 

Frowning, he nods. “See you later, ma’am.” 

Closing the door behind him, Sendak waits for a moment, staring at the ground. What could she want to tell Shiro, but not tell him?

:::

It’s his birthday. He doesn’t expect anyone to remember, not so close to a no-contact mission where everybody is running around like chickens with their heads cut off, but Shiro always surprises him. 

_ Happy Birthday - Shiro_, the engraving says, along the barrel of the Browning Hi-Power handgun. His favorite model too, and hard to get too, especially in Japan with their strict gun laws. 

“Thanks,” he chuckles, checking the grip before locking it back into its case. It’s perfect. 

Shiro adverts his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “No problem. You owe me for my next birthday, though.” 

“Oh, you mean four years from now?” He teases. Poor leap year baby. 

He gets an arm around his throat for his jokes, but then Hepta jumps in, which prompts Fentress to noogie Sendak's head, and soon the rest of their squadron join the vicious dog pile of fists and teeth, until Krolia’s barges into the room and barking orders and threats to send them all back to CC, and it’s the happiest Sendak’s ever been. 

:::

They’re going down, they’re going down and no matter how much he slams on the controls, the entire power system is offline. 

Krolia swears in front of them, as Shiro attempts to guide them out of the nosedive they’ve sent themselves into to no avail. “Communications are down!” She shouts, slamming the communicator shut. They’ve heard nothing from their fellow squad mates since they got separated. “Brace for impact, this isn’t going to be easy!”

Shiro and him share a desperate look, and he mouths something, he doesn’t know what, but the ground is coming at them and he clenches his eyes shut as the trees below them come closer and closer - 

:::

Sendak wakes up on the ground. 

Groaning, he slumps to his side, the world spinning around him. “Shiro…?” His voice, thin as a reed escapes him. “Shiro?” 

His hands slide weakly underneath him, and he moans pitifully as everything jerks sickeningly to the side. Concussion, he thinks, and is rewarded by wetness dripping down his face. Mentally, he tries to run a countdown on his body, and winces as his left arm barely seems to be held together. His entire chest aches, but he doesn’t think he punctured anything, so probably just bruised or broken ribs. 

Dragging himself up slowly, he squints at his too bright surroundings. His seat lays in pieces in the tree above him, smoke everywhere but no fire to be seen. He must have been launched when the jet hit the ground. 

And behind him is the ruins of the plane. 

“Shiro?” He calls again, desperately. “Shiro!” 

There’s still no response. 

Sendak has never felt so alone. 

Coughing, he digs his fingers into the dirt, dragging himself up slowly step by step. He clenches his teeth, ignoring the pitiful whine escaping between his teeth as he staggers his way back over to the plane, holding his left arm to his side. Every inch of him trembles pathetically, harsh wheezes escaping him as he spots Krolia’s dog tags among the rubble from the front of the jet. 

“Shiro!” He screams. 

Quietly, he hears someone cough. 

Dropping to his knees, he slowly lowers himself to the ground by the pile of rubble, eyes widening as they meet Shiro’s grey ones. 

Blood trails out of his mouth as he wheezes underneath the weight of the wing of the jet. “Sendak…” He whispers, left arm scrambling in the mud. “I…I can’t feel, feel my arm.”

“Don’t look,” he hurriedly orders when Shiro tries to tilt his head back to see the undoubtedly pulverized mess. “I’m sure - I’m sure it’s fine. Just stay still, okay?” 

Shiro wets his bloody lips. “Krolia?”

He shakes his head. Shiro’s mouth tenses, closing his eyes to hold back tears. Sendak swallows, feeling the same desperate hopelessness. 

“I have to go,” he slides his right arm under the plane, not daring to squeeze Shiro’s shoulder lighter than a feather touch. “I need to get a signal out, a flare, something. You’re going to be okay.” 

“Don’t go…” But he’s already unsteadily climbing to his feet, face turned away from Shiro’s increasingly desperate pleads as he stumbles away. 

They need to get rescued. That matters more than anything else right now. 

:::

Rescue doesn’t come for two days. 

Sendak rubs his bleary eyes when he hears the distant hum of engines. Shiro’s fever has almost entirely consumed him, infection setting deep in his bones as he murmurs to himself nonsensical things in Japanese, his loose grasp of the language only allowing him to pick up something that sounds like family names, with the word 'car' thrown in a lot. He spent last night trying to get him to drink what little clean water supplies they have, only for Shiro to throw it back up as watery bile less than ten minutes later. 

Then he realizes what it means. “Over here!” He shouts, already fumbling for the last flare he saved for this moment. “Shiro, come on, wake up.”

He pauses, but there’s no sound. Shiro isn’t waking up. 

Shiro isn’t moving. 

“Takashi?” He whispers. 

:::

They both survive. Both lose one of their arms. 

Later, he’ll ask what happened to him. 

Apparently, both were helicoptered out and taken to the closest civilian hospital. If he tries to think about it, he can vaguely remember being strapped down, his faint screams as he calls for his best friend to wake up. They were both rushed into emergency surgery, Shiro having lost his arm to trauma, Sendak to infection that set in a day later. 

After they were both stabilized - unconscious, but not of risk of immediately dying, they were transferred to the military hospital at Okinawa. 

No sign of Krolia. Not even a body, just a pair of bloody dog tags and the ruins of the cockpit with smears of blood decorating the front panel. Sendak’s superior officers guesses that either animals or locals got her, and they missed the two junior soldiers due to his seat being launched out and Shiro pinned underneath the wing. 

She’s as good as dead, anyhow, even if her official status is MIA. 

He sucks the lollipop as Shiro dozes on his hospital bed, strapped to a million and one wires. He’s breathing on his own now, and that’s what’s important. 

The rest can come later. Shiro’s alive, and that’s what matters. 

Speak of the devil, Shiro starts to groan weakly, eyes fluttering open. “Colonel…?” He breathes, and Sendak bites harder on the lollipop until he feels it crack. 

“Gone.” He says simply. He has a feeling he’s going to be saying that a lot lately. Their own squadron took the news hard - they were all close with her, so much so that they simply abandoned them after checking to make sure Shiro would pull through. Cowards. 

Shiro shudders, his entire body folding together and he chokes on a sob. And he watches. And he stays as Shiro grieves for the things he lost - his right arm, their colonel who was like a mother to them, their future in service. 

He wants to join him but he can’t, he can’t - 

Feel anything. 

:::

“Mr. Shirogane?” A woman pops her head into the room, blinking when she spots Sendak sitting in the chair next to Shiro’s bed. It’s been four days since Sendak dropped the news about Krolia, and while the nurses force him into his own bed at night and to go to his physical therapy appointments, he spends his days as a silent vigil by Shiro’s side as the man falls apart and slowly puts himself back together. “I’m Merla MacNeille, I have something I’d like to discuss with you and Mr. Sendak.” 

“That’s me,” Shiro says weakly, sitting up from where he was lifelessly scrolling through his new phone. He’s been acting strange lately - and it’s not just the new scar cutting across the bridge of his nose from a piece of shrapnel. “What’s wrong?” 

She purses her lips, a question floating behind her glasses, and that’s when Sendak knows he’s not going to like this. “You and Mr. Sendak,” she nods her head respectfully at him, and Sendak graces her with a scowl. “Do you know that you’re listed in her will in the case of both her and her husband’s death?” 

Both of them freeze. “Her will?” He asks, right as Shiro bites his lip and says, “Her husband died?” 

Merla nods her head to both of their questions. “He passed away in the line of duty only a week after your squadron went into no-contact. Saved an entire family's lives.” 

Shiro inhales sharply, his one remaining hand twisting in the fabric of the paper thin hospital sheets. Neither of them have gotten a prosthetic yet - the wounds are still healing and inflamed from the harsh grip of infection. “They lived in Arizona, right?” 

“They did,” Merla adjusts her clipboard to her chest, smiling painfully at the two of them. “Them, and their four month old son.” 

He can’t breathe. 

“Both of you are now the legal guardians of him, according to her will,” she glances between them. “Of course, if you don’t want custody of him, which is perfectly understandable, the state will gladly take him and put him in a good home -” 

“Four months, you said?” Sendak stiffens. He knows that tone. 

Sure enough, Shiro stares at his lap in pure wonderment, eyes full of life for the first time since he delivered the news of Krolia’s death. 

“His name is Keith,” Shiro rasps, looking so painfully young. “Keith Akira Kogane.”

Merla’s lips quirk up. “That’s right, I’m surprised you knew about that. Well, if you don’t mind, we can fill out some paperwork -”

“What about the kid’s extended family?” Sendak interrupts, not caring if Shiro sends him a scolding look for it. “He’s got some aunts or uncles, grandparents, right?”

“Unfortunately, Mrs. Kogane doesn’t have any surviving family, and Mr. Kogane’s sister and father both already refused to take him in.” The distaste that crawls across her face gives him the hint that there’s something more to that story, but he honestly doesn’t care that much to press for information. “I know this is a lot to ask -”

“I’ll take him.” 

Sendak chokes, pinning a glare on Shiro. “What the hell?!” 

“Great!” Merla chirps brightly. “There’s a lot of stuff to sign, and the process will take a couple weeks anyhow, so focus on recovering while Keith remains in the hands of the state. There’s also the matter of the living situation - ”

“Ms. MacNeille, can you give us a minute?” Sendak doesn’t bother to phrase it as a question really, keeping his glare on Shiro until he hears her affirmative answer and the door shutting behind her. 

Shiro moves as if to cross his arms, but stops mid-track, staring at the space where his right arm once was with lost in his eyes. “What is it now?” He snaps impatiently, narrowing his eyes at him. 

He rolls his eyes. “You’re taking in a kid you’ve never met before, for what? It’s not like Krolia’s alive to thank you.” 

Sendak knows he went too far the instant Shiro’s eyes go cold. “Get out.” He hisses.

“What?”

“You heard me.” Shiro snaps. “Get out! Get out right now, Javeeno. GET OUT -”

He stumbles back as several nurses swarm into the hospital room, Shiro still thrashing and screaming his head off. Clicking his tongue, he turns on his heel back to his own hospital room, clutching the stump of his arm to his chest as Shiro’s yells echo around the empty hallway.

:::

Quietly, he pads into Shiro’s room late at night, dropping off a pile of lollipops on the table next to the bed. Taking a seat, Sendak lets them sit in silence, Shiro’s head pointedly turned away from him. 

He doesn’t apologize, because he wasn’t wrong, but after a few more minutes, Shiro takes one of the green lollipops and slowly unwraps it, figuring out how to do it with one hand along the way. He stares at the candy in his hand for a long moment, spinning it around to catch the dim hallway light.

“I’m taking Keith.” Shiro finally says, voice devoid of emotion.

Sendak leans back, popping his own lollipop in his mouth. The crunch of the candy splintering is much too loud in the silent room. “Fine. But don’t expect my help.”

He can’t see Shiro’s eyes from this angle, but the corners of his lips twitch up, right before he bites down on his own lollipop.

:::

The car hums beneath them, the AC cranked to full blast, but even still Sendak waves himself wearily, sweat dripping down his forehead. It’s too fucking hot out. He's a Michigan city boy okay, he handles winter with minimal grouchiness and the occasional middle finger pointed towards the sky when it's the tenth day in the row where they haven't gone above twenty degrees. Not middle of nowhere desert where spiders are the size of his hand, no thank you. 

“Why did Colonel marry a man who wanted to live out here?” He asks wearily. Shiro glances up from admiring his new prosthetic - he wouldn’t accept Sendak paying for Cyberlife limp implants for him so he went for a more metallic looking one that could be manually removed. 

“His grandfather was a member of a reservation, I believe.” Shiro says distractedly. “Moved for work, Krolia didn’t mention much else. His family didn’t like him marrying a Korean, and a military one at that, so they cut contact a little after Keith was born.”

He feels something - twist, inside of him. The idea that Krolia, the woman who gave him his new name, told Shiro this intimate history rather than him… 

Sendak swallows and turns his head to the side, the churning in his stomach fading slowly as he focuses intently on the desert passing by them. The self-driving car is taking them to the group home in Phoenix, where Merla will meet Shiro with paperwork and a baby. 

A baby. Jesus fucking christ. 

“You know it’s not too late, right?” He has to ask - he can’t let his best friend toss his life away so easily. “We can back out now, you can stay with me until you get your feet underneath you -”

Shiro’s already shaking his head with a bemused smile. “I want this,” he admits, painfully honest, and Sendak winces at the truth he hears in that statement. “I took care of the younger kids at my group home, and I’ve…I’ve always wanted to be a parent. Even before everything that happened.” 

Sendak grimaces. “Still think you’re making a dumbass choice.” He grumbles halfheartedly. 

“I know.” Shiro shrugs, conversation seemingly dismissed as he goes back to his phone. Back to one of his parenting for dummy guides he’s been consuming since the moment he signed the paperwork probably. It’s all he ever reads, pages and pages full of notes and tips for one fucking kid that isn't even biologically his. 

He sighs. As long as him and Shiro can still hang out as before, he doesn’t really see why he should care. 

Merla welcomes them in when they arrive, beaming brightly up at them with newly cut short hair. “Come on in, Keith’s right over here.” 

Sendak follows loosely behind them, hands in his pockets as he watches Shiro hurry after her, hesitating briefly at the doorway of a bright blue and white room full of cribs. “Good afternoon sweetie,” Merla coos to one of the cribs, carefully picking up a swaddled baby, before turning to Shiro expectantly. “Are you ready?” 

Shiro frantically nods though his expression screams pure panic, holding out his arms as Merla gently hands the boy over. For a single moment, Keith fusses at the shift, a low whine emerging before sputtering out into a giggling sound, small hand reaching up to dig into Shiro’s shirt, as if saying _this is mine_. 

And Sendak watches as for the first time, Takashi Shirogane, falls absolutely, helplessly in love. 

“Hi baby,” Shiro whispers, biting his lip as a few tears slip down his face. Keith gurgles, a mop of dark hair lifting up as he watches the strange man talking to him, and Shiro’s trembling smile shifts into a full blown beam. It’s the largest smile he’s seen from Shiro since the plane, since perhaps the entire time he’s known him. “I’m Shiro, your new daddy, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m going to do my best to take care of you, okay? You’re never going to be lonely again, I promise you.”

:::

Sendak sits impatiently on the couch as Shiro lays on his stomach with the baby, dangling a toy in front of him and looking completely enraptured with the child barely able to hold his head up for ten seconds before he has to take a break. 

“Where are you going now?” He asks, tapping his foot against the wooden floors and flinching at the distant sound of children shrieking their lungs out. Ugh. He really does not like children. 

Shiro doesn’t look away from the baby on the floor with him, clapping gently when the baby rocks a little bit in a sad attempt at a roll. “I don’t know, I don’t think I want to stick around in Arizona, but other than that…”

Tap, tap, tap… “Why not come to Detroit then?”

Shiro finally looks up, blinking a little bit. Then he smiles, that same smile that could contain the universe within it. “Maybe I will, then.”

Climbing to his feet, he nods at his friend. “I’m heading back then, my flight’s at four. You good here?” 

“Just fine.” Shiro says breezily, resting his chin on his folded arms as the baby babbles something nondescript, hands reaching out to tug on Shiro's bangs. “Isn’t that right baby? We’re gonna be just fine, aren’t we?” 

:::

Sendak moves to Detroit, and tries to start his life over. While he gets a pension and disability from serving, it’s not nearly enough to sustain him, so he ends up taking over his parent’s company and buying a penthouse in southern Detroit. They died sometime into his service, but since Sendak had a no contact order with them, a family friend broke the news of the car accident. He spends a single evening getting drunk of his ass, before phoning the family friend the next day to ask what they left to him. Including a company. 

Guess while they had no problem with beating him, they still wanted to keep the company in name. Go figure. Thank fuck he changed his last name. 

“Are you still coming over today?” 

Shiro smiles apologetically from the video feed, bouncing the not so tiny sleeping baby anymore against his shoulder. “I don’t think I can make it, Keith has a bit of a temp…”

At age a year and something months (while Sendak didn’t attend the baby party as he had work to do, he sure got spammed with pictures afterwards), Keith was always sick with something or another, puking or coughing or being a disgusting snotty mess as most kids are. He swears the kid sometimes gets sick on purpose just to mess with their plans. 

But Sendak just sighs. “Again? Just have the babysitter watch him for a bit, it’s just the game and a beer.”

Shiro’s expression sours, which means that he said something wrong, again. Ever since Shiro got custody of Keith, it’s like he’s walking on a landmine with him. “Cut it out,” he says harshly. “He’s only eighteen months, I’m not gonna leave behind a sick kid to watch a _ game_.” 

He groans. “It’s a temperature. Kids get them. When’s the last time we’ve hung out face to face?” 

Of course he knows the answer. It’s been six months since he’s seen more of his friend than through the occasional picture he sends (always with Keith) or video chat. He’s tired of the kid always being put above him. This isn't what he signed up for. 

“I…don’t know.” Shiro falters, eyebrows furrowing. “I’ve been a bit of a shitty friend lately,” well he could have said that one, “but Keith is my priority. I’m not sure I can explain it until you have kids yourself.” 

He leans against his desk chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “So this is it? You’re always going to put Krolia’s kid above everything else? He’s not even yours!” 

Shiro flinches like he was shot, while Keith stirs from the loud noise. “He _ is _mine.” Shiro says slowly, like he’s trying to make himself believe it. “He may not be biologically mine, but -”

“You’re just doing this because you feel guilty about Krolia’s death.” Sendak snaps. “You don’t actually give a rat’s ass about him, just that he’s our colonel’s _ real _son -”

“Enough projecting,” Shiro coldly spits out, soothingly stroking down Keith’s back, who whines and buries his face in Shiro's hoodie. “I’m so sorry that Krolia never actually loved you, but who could? All you care about is yourself.” His grey eyes narrow, and Sendak feels pinned in his seat. “Everything’s about you, always, because how dare I care about anyone else in my life? Don’t talk to me again until you learn how to stop being such a fucking asshole. End call.” 

The wall goes blank, and Sendak can only stare at the white plaster for a few moments before he lunges into motion, sweeping his papers and paperweights off the desk. “Fuck!” 

He chucks the metal apple he got as a gift at the wall, screaming another swear as he flings everything he can at the walls. “Fucking shit,” an enraged yell escapes him, fury soaking into his bones as he stands in the ruins of his home office space, shaking fists clenched by his side. 

Fine. If that’s the way Shiro wants to have it, then fine. The man could play house with Krolia’s dumb kid all he wants - Sendak wasn’t apologizing for shit. 

This is why he hates kids. They tear people apart worse than money or luck ever could. And look what Keith’s done to them now. 

Look at them now. 

:::

Shiro and him don’t talk for almost a year. 

The only reason that they talk at all is because his secretary Ladnok ducks her head in his office, smiling awkwardly at him. “Sir? You have a call from Henry Ford, requesting to speak to you.” 

He frowns. That’s the hospital near the center of town - why would anyone call him from there? He prefers to go to local clinics if he has anything worse than a cold. “Patch them through.” He orders, and thumbs the holopad to accept the phone call. 

“Mr. Sendak?” They ask him, voice a teeny din. “Are you one of the legal guardians of Keith Kogane?” 

Furrowing his eyebrows, he turns the volume up, leaning forward in his seat. “I am, I suppose I didn’t officially sign away my legal rights to him. Why?”

The doctor begins to speak, and his entire world crashes around him. 

:::

“He’s sleeping now, so please don’t disturb his rest.” The nurse warns him, and Sendak rolls his eyes behind her back at the obvious statement before agreeing verbally. She leads him to a small room through several confusing hallways, motioning him towards the blue door before disappearing in the hub of the nurse’s station. 

Steeling himself, he yanks the door open, breath catching in his throat at the person lying in bed, IV in their arm and looking as frail and tired as they did under the plane.

Shiro.

Just as the nurse said, he’s sleeping peacefully, eyes moving under his eyelids restlessly as his hand digs into the back of the shirt the kid snuggled into his side is wearing. Keith's grown up so much it's barely recognizable, but he's all Krolia in his features. 

Quietly, he takes a seat against the wall, itching for a smoke since he got addicted last summer. Instead, he absently flicks through his phone, irritated with…everything really. They called him to take Keith, as he was the only other person alive listed on _ Keith_’s emergency contact list, not even on Shiro’s. 

He wasn’t even worth that much to him, huh?

Around an hour later, Shiro finally begins to stir, eyelashes flickering as he peers up at the bright ceiling. “Where…” he mumbles, and Sendak snorts as he stuffs his phone back into his pocket. 

“Henry Ford’s, since they found you collapsed on the floor of the floor of Voami’s lobby unable to move.” Sendak runs his hand through his hair, clenching his teeth until his jaw aches. “A homeless shelter, really? You’re _ sick_?” 

“Keep your voice down.” Shiro tiredly scolds after a moment to regain his thoughts, rubbing the kid’s back. “But yeah, I’m ‘sick’. Have been for years.” 

Sendak curses. “When was this? There’s no way you could have signed up for the air force with this…muscular thing.” He cringes at even the thought of it. 

At least Shiro has the grace to look sheepish. “About a year into service. Krolia helped me keep it a secret.” 

Again, there’s the sting of bitterness, that Krolia cared more about Shiro than she did for him. “Is it curable?” He demands. “Well?”

Slowly, Shiro shakes his head. 

Fuck. 

“I lost my job a couple months ago, ever since androids first started being manufactured…” Shiro trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose with his prosthetic. “Our apartment had led so we had to find somewhere to stay, but the shelter is nice enough, it’s not like we’re suffering.” 

He growls. “You were on the fucking floor screaming!” He snaps, uncaring that Keith wakes with a startled yelp. “The doctor said you hadn’t taken any of your medicine in two years, yeah you’re stupid and reckless, but not this much!”

Shiro avoids eye contact, shushing the toddler and soothing him with soft words. Sendak’s face twists up even tighter, white knuckling the bed rail and seeing red. Then the realization hits him. “You can’t afford to, can you?” 

The other man flinches. “Fucking - how much debt are you in?”

Shiro hunches his shoulders up, the muscle in his cheek popping. “...fifty thousand.” 

He can’t even - “How - how did you even get that much debt?” Sendak chokes out. 

“It’s not like I was born into money like you!” Shiro finally makes eye contact, a fire storming in his grey eyes. “I had to take some loans out to pay for the civilian hospital stay, and then the prosthetic. And raising a child isn’t cheap, not with daycare and doctor’s visits and everything else that comes with little kids.”

Sendak swallows. “Why didn’t you just ask for help?” He almost whispers. 

Shiro snorts derisively. “What? From you? We’re hardly even friends anymore, Sendak. It’s time to let the past go.” 

It’s like glass shattering his chest, splintering into thousands of shards digging into his lungs. “I see,” he mumbles, something sharp clawing behind his eyes.

But just as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. 

“If that’s the way you feel, then I guess I can’t help you.” Sendak intones darkly, nails digging into his slacks. “Well, Takashi Shirogane, congratulations. You lost custody of Keith.” 

Shiro’s heart shatters before his eyes. “Wha - what?” 

“CPS came in when you were unconscious,” he spits out, gleeful in the way Shiro drags a confused Keith closer to him protectively. “Your living situation and your health has deemed you an ‘unfit parent’ by the state. I have custody of him now.” 

“No!” Shiro barks out, right as Sendak grabs Keith’s upper arm and starts to drag him off the bed, uncaring of the height off the floor. “Stop, Javeeno stop!”

“Dada!” Keith shrieks, flailing in Sendak’s arms. He grunts, scowling as Shiro desperately scrambles out of the bed with his weakened body, latching onto Keith’s ankle. 

“You want to get charged with kidnapping too?” He challenges, Shiro instantly freezing as the words settled in his head. “He’s not your kid anymore, he’s not your son.” Shiro shakes his head, mouth opening to say something, anything, but all that comes out is soundless pleads, small sobs emerging from him. “The state said you can have him back when you’re financially stable, so good fucking luck, Shirogane.” 

“Please…” Shiro trails off, smothered cries behind his bitten lips. 

“See you in court, if you can afford it.” Sendak snarls, looking at his former friend one last time in the eye before swinging the crying kid over his shoulder, leaving the hospital room without ever looking back, Shiro’s muffled sobs still ringing in his ears. 

:::

He groans, rubbing his forehead as the kid continues to wail in front of him. This is why he hates children. 

“Dada!” The kid blubbers, snot running down from his nose as he kicks his feet against the tile. Doesn't that hurt? “”Want Dada!” 

“Not gonna happen kid,” he mutters, unsure what to do with the kid now that he has him. What did his parents do when he was young? Maybe bad example, but he turned out fine, so he just won’t hit the kid. 

First thing first, finding some stuff to fill the room. 

He calls his secretary. Is there all day daycares for this kind of shit? 

In the meantime, he just hands the kid the living room TV remote. “Have fun.” He drawls, not looking up from his phone as he heads to his desk. Once the furniture arrives and gets put together, he’ll have his secretary look into putting the kid for preschool or something, wherever kids go in the day to get out of people's hair. He’ll trash the house left alone all day, and while he has money to blow, cleaning companies only come at certain hours. 

“No!” The kid screams, crawling to their feet and toddling over to him, yanking on the ends of his suit. He glances down in distaste at those snotty fingers clinging to him - great, time to add dry cleaning to the bill. “No ‘lone! Stay!” 

Sendak sighs. “Let go of me,” he orders, and when Keith only petulantly sticks his lips out at him, he pushes the kid’s forehead gingerly, but firm enough that eventually the kid has to let go or risk falling over. “Don’t destroy anything, got it?”

The kid shrieks, throwing himself to the floor. “Dada! Dada!” 

Jesus fucking christ. “Fine, you hungry or something?” The kid blinks swollen eyes at him, nodding slowly while still bawling hysterically. “I have some cereal, hurry up.” 

Muttering to himself the entire time, he pours the kid a bowl of cheerios, which seems like the only brand the kid recognizes. “There, happy?” 

The kid doesn’t say anything, just murmuring to himself as he hurriedly shoves a spoonful of oats in his mouth. Milk drips all over the previously pristine counters, and Sendak just shakes his head in disgust as Keith tries to talk through a mouthful of half chewed up food. He’s gonna have to up the amount of cleaning company visits, won’t he? 

Now finally able to get back to the office, he turns on his laptop and boots up his spreadsheet - they’re having a budget review soon and he needs to crunch this month’s numbers to figure out what they can and can’t cut. 

Sendak’s only a few minutes into the spreadsheet when he hears small footsteps…staggering? “Kid?” He calls, furrowing his eyebrows as he pushes his chair back and peeks out in the hallway. 

Where the kid is sitting, hunched over their stomach whining. “Tummy hurts,” Keith admits through more tears when Sendak gets up and comes closer, small hands digging into the dinosaur t-shirt he’s been wearing for days now while his dad was in the hospital. 

Sendak crouches down, rolling his eyes. “You probably ate too fast, just go lie down on the…” he trails off as the kid tilts alarmingly to the side, face going sheet white, before he vomits all over his pristine floors. 

He jumps back, making a disgusted noise low in his throat. “Ew, seriously, you couldn’t hold it to the bathroom?” 

The kid peers up at him through wet eyelashes. “Tummy hurts.” He repeats, patting his stomach with a whine and red arms. 

Red arms?

Narrowing his eyes, he yanks up Keith’s sleeve. A rash. 

Hives. 

“Milk,” he breathes, the realization setting in. “Why didn’t you say you were lactose intolerant?!”

The kid only whimpers, cheeks blown red and vomit staining his chin. 

Fuck. 

:::

One trip to the ER later and a new epipen in Sendak’s bag, he sighs as the kid follows after him slowly from the car to the elevator. Honestly, it would be faster to just carry him, but he doesn’t have the tolerance to have those grubby fingers anywhere near him. 

The kid yawns tiredly, itching absently at the hive markings still along his arms and neck. Once they climb in the elevator, the kid tugs at Sendak’s now creased slacks, looking up at him pointedly. He says nothing, just staring as if there’s some unspoken signal Sendak should be getting. 

“What?” He asks somewhat defensively, but the kid only blinks. 

Ignoring the kid, Sendak taps on his phone, only glancing up when the elevator dings to let them know they arrived. The furniture came while they were in the hospital, so hopefully the kid will just go to sleep and he can drown his sorrows in a bottle of scotch. 

“Hurry up!” He yells over his shoulder as the kid just continues to stand in the elevator, still blinking. Eventually, he starts to follow Sendak, glancing around the new bedroom with wide eyes. 

Really, his secretary outdid herself. There’s a new toddler bed pushed against the far wall, along with a bookcase, a bureau, and a chest of toys. On the floor there’s a new foam rug with the letters of the alphabet, and a TV set against the wall above the bureau. 

Everything conceivably needed to keep a kid entertained all day. 

“Here’s the remote,” Sendak points out, dropping it down on a shelf on the bookcase the kid could reach. “If you get bored just hit the red button. Night.” 

With that, he leaves the kid in the new bedroom, shutting the door behind him knowing full well the knob is too high for the kid to reach, and goes to chug some of the hard liquors in his wine cabinet. 

:::

Why do people even have kids, he muses as he eats his egg sandwich, eyeing the kid who’s practically falling asleep in his cereal (with soy milk now, thank god he kept some for his coffee). He can see how the whole process of creating them has some of the appeal, but the people who adopt? Why? 

He just can’t see it. 

“I gotta get to work now.” He says, taking the half empty bowl away from the kid when he spends three solid minutes just trying to keep his eyes open. “Back to the room for you.” 

The kid mutters something, rubbing his eyes as he crawls out of his seat and back to his new bedroom. Sendak turns the TV on before he leaves, dumping some toast on the ground and a water bottle and calling it quits. How much do kids even need to eat? 

Ugh. 

Well, this won’t be forever, he reminds himself as he climbs in his car, inputting his work’s destination in. He just wants to make Shiro suffer for a little while, then the two of them can be a miserable family together. 

He carries that thought all the way to the parking garage and up to the top floor of his workplace, right before pain bursts in his jaw from the right hook someone sent him. 

“Javeeno, you fucking bastard.” Shiro hisses, eyes practically blazing with a frenzied fever as he shakes out his right hand. His metal prosthetic, no wonder there's blood in mouth. “Give me back my fucking kid.” 

“Not yours, anymore.” Sendak can’t help but mock, smirking with bloodied teeth. 

Shiro coughs, cheeks sunken in and shadows under his eyes. It’s only been a day, and yet he looks like he’s on the verge of losing it. He raises his hand like he’s going to attack Sendak again, but Sendak quickly steps back and making a pointed gesture to the elevator glowing lights, announcing it’s three floors away from arriving. 

The man growls, staggering over to one of the hallway walls and bracing his weight against, struggling to catch his breath. “Fuck you.” 

He furrows his eyebrows. “Hey, you okay -”

“Shut up!” The snarl rips itself painfully out of Shiro, lips bitten raw as he looks on the verge of something he can’t quite describe. “Just…shut up.” 

That ugly twisting feeling emerges, and his face scrunches up as Shiro drags himself back to the elevator, barely waiting for the other office workers to flock out before pulling himself into the elevator, pinning Sendak with one last glare as he slams his fist onto the first floor button. “You’re the worst kind of person,” he spits out, and it stings more than he thought it would. 

But Sendak just rolls his head back, swallowing the mouthful of blood with a sardonic grin. “Guess who found out about Keith’s dairy allergy the hard way?” He quips, delighting in the way Shiro’s entire frame freezes up, before throwing himself at Sendak with pure rage in his eyes, right as the door slide shut in his face. 

He whistles the entire walk to his office. 

:::

A month and a half passes before Sendak hears from Shiro again. 

Of course, the man’s been ringing his phone almost nonstop, and the doorman’s had to turn him away from the penthouse more than a dozen times, but it’s late at night, he’s been hitting the scotch heavier than usual and looking at old photos of their squadron, so he’s already feeling sentimental when his caller ID reads **SHIRO **for the fourth time that night. 

“_Javeeno, please, I just want to talk to Keith, pick up when you hear - oh_.” Shiro pauses when he realizes that the phone did not in fact go to voicemail. Then, “_Oh. Oh thank fuck. Javeeno, let me talk to my baby, I’m begging you. I know it’s eleven but I just need to hear his voice, please - _ ” his voice cracks painfully, and Sendak winces, guilt hitting him _hard_, but he viciously beats it down. 

“Fine.” He clicks his tongue, heading over to Keith’s room, where he can still hear the low hum of the TV. Opening the door, he squints into the dark room to see Keith sitting on the floor, glassy eyes watching TV mindlessly with the blanket pooled around him. Things got much better when he realized that the TV could keep the kid entertained for hours, all day really, with only minimal effort to keep the kid alive. 

What a way to find out that the kid isn’t fucking potty trained coming home to a crying Keith with piss stained blankets. At least the kid is self reliant and able to pull a pull up on and off himself, because Sendak sure as hell isn’t going to help him. 

“Kid,” he calls, waiting until Keith slowly looks up at him with a dull expression. “Shiro’s calling. Your dad.” He clarifies. 

And it’s like the sun came up. “Dada!” Keith squeals, beaming brighter than Sendak’s think he’s ever seen the kid grinned, reaching up for the phone. He stays right by his feet, so Sendak can still hear clear as day Shiro’s shaky inhale as Keith chirps, “‘llo?”

“_Hi baby,_” Shiro whispers, sounding on the verge of tears. “_Daddy’s missed you._”

“Dada,” Keith laughs cheerfully, hopping in place. “Home? When home?”

Shiro swallows. “_Soon, okay? Daddy has a few more things to take care of, then we can go home together. How are you doing?_”

“Miss you.” Keith says innocently, and Sendak feels like the shittiest person on the planet as he hears Shiro stifle back a sob. 

“_Daddy misses you too, he misses you so very much. But we’ll be together soon, I promise. I’m so close to getting you back, sweetheart. I love_ you."

“Love too.” Keith blows a dramatic kiss into the phone’s speaker, Shiro wetly laughing at the toddlers antics. “Keith love dada ‘ever.” 

Shiro does actually start to cry. “_Daddy loves Keith forever, too. Forever and ever._” 

Keith closes his eyes, humming as he cuddles close to the phone as if it was his actual father and not just his voice over soundwaves. “Music?” He asks carefully, as if scared by the answer. 

“_I have the music box honey, don’t worry._” Shiro assures him, and Keith physically untenses, relaxing again into the sound of his father's voice. “_We’ll play it all night when you get home, so much that Mr. Davis gets angry and yells at us again._”

The kid giggles. “Meanie!” He agrees, nose wrinkling up. Like a plant under sunshine, he unfurls, energy buzzing under his veins as he hops in place, cheeks flushed with pure happiness as his feet tap on the ground to music only he can hear. 

Sendak can’t bare to listen to this anymore. “Hand me the phone,” he orders, and Keith frowns up at him, protectively cradling it close to his cheek, but he just tears it out of the kid’s hands and walks out of the room, hearing Shiro’s muffled protests under his palm. 

“There, he’s alive.” He announces brusquely. “Happy now?” 

Shiro doesn’t say anything for several long moments. “_I don’t know what you want to me to say, I’m literally on my hands and knees here, just please, please give me my son back. I can’t keep doing this._”

He stops in the middle of the shadowed hallway, guilt and anger festering inside of him until he feels like he’s bursting at the seams. “You don’t know, huh?” He mutters, before abruptly ending the call. 

The next time Shiro calls him, he ignores it. And the time after that, and the time after that. 

:::

“I’m home,” he yells into the silent house, dumping his coat on the rack. After putting his files and briefcase in his office, he heads over to let Keith out of his room, ducking his head in when he hears no immediate loud yelling and footsteps following after him on his heels. The kid is probably the clingiest thing he's ever met. 

Keith’s just napping on the floor though surrounded by his blankets with the TV still playing some CGI cartoon, so he leaves the door open and gets back to work. At around eight, he heats both of them up some microwave dinners, checking in again on the toddler. 

Who’s still napping. 

Frowning, Sendak fully enters the room, gently nudging the sleeping kid with his foot. Who only rolls onto his back, breaths coming slow, too slow, face pale and dark bags under his eyes. 

“Keith?” He asks, voice thin. 

:::

“Where is he?!” Shiro’s voice booms, echoing in the inpatient wing of St. John’s pediatric hospital. Sendak raises his head from his hands, flinching at Shiro storms towards him, face a dark mask of violence ready to storm. 

He’s expecting Shiro to hit him, to get violent, but he only shudders, hands twitching by his sides erratically. “Malnutrition?” He whispers brokenly, rubbing his face defeatedly. 

“I didn’t know,” Sendak defends quickly, crossing his arms. “He seemed fine!”

“Really? No tiredness, no feeling cold constantly, no lack of concentration?” Shiro challenges harshly, hands sliding up to yank at his hair in frustration. “Nothing?!”

He winces. “I… it’s not like we spend much time together, how was I supposed to catch this shit?” 

Shiro snarls. “I don’t know, _ asking_?” 

He raises his hands. “Okay, I messed up pretty badly, but none of the damage is permanent, and he’ll be better in a few weeks.” Sendak tries to explain. The only reason Shiro was here in the first place was that Keith was still technically on Shiro’s health insurance, and they needed Shiro’s permission to admit Keith for an overnight stay. “It’s really not a big deal -”

To be honest, he was expecting that punch, but it still stings like a bitch.

“Keith’s gums were bleeding.” Shiro recites monotonously. “He had the beginning of scurvy symptoms for fucking sake, and you say it’s _ not a big deal?!_” 

“Excuse me,” the pediatric doctor clears her throat pointedly at the two of them, standing in the doorway of Keith’s room. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now.” 

Both of them blink. “What, why?” Shiro is the first to recover, trying to catch a glimpse of Keith behind her. All Sendak can catch before she moves to block their view is Keith’s dark curls, sprawled across the white sheets as his pale sleeping face seems to blend into the fabric. 

“You’re both being investigated for child neglect,” a new voice says behind them, and they both turn as one to see the source of the new voice smiling with so much cheer it's obvious it's fake at them, holding up a badge. “I’m Bob Henson, from CPS. Nice to meet you.” 

:::

The two of them eat their burgers numbly, the silence suffocating both of them to a slow death at the cheap fast food restaurant just down the street from St. John’s. If he craned his head, he could even see the large spire that was the center of the complex, and the same building Keith was currently admitted to.

Sendak just lost custody of Keith. 

The state has him now. 

“I can fight it,” he begins slowly. “It’ll be tough, and cost a lot when I bring the case to the courts, but I can keep him out of foster care.” 

If there's one thing inheriting his parent's fortune taught him, was that money would get him everywhere. Even the custody of a kid he doesn't even want. 

Shiro glances up at him with red rimmed eyes. “You would do that?” He asks breathlessly, obviously still thinking of someone else stuck in foster care, the same person who has scars on his back and hips from cruel temporary guardians before he was shifted into the next home, before they just gave up on him. 

He folds his hands. “On one condition.” 

They stare at each other, two men who used to be friends, now torn apart a little boy with several IVs stuck in his arms and bloody smiles from bleeding gums. Sendak doesn’t think he hates anyone more in his life. 

“I keep him. Permanently.”

Shiro closes his eyes as if the words physically pains him. He breathes, in and out, metal hand squeezing the edge of the worn wooden table. “Fine.” He agrees, voice barely above a whisper, weaker than a man on the verge of death. 

When he leaves, he hovers by the seat for a long moment, gaze caught on the hospital building outside the large dirty windows. “You’re not a good father.”

Sendak crinkles the napkin. “Watch yourself, Shirogane.”

:::

It takes a lot of money, a lot of bribing, and social workers literally breathing down his neck before Keith is released back into his care three weeks later. 

“Dada?” The kid asks when they’re in the elevator, and he has a heart attack moment where he thinks the kid is calling him that, but no, he’s just looking around as if Shiro will magically emerge from the shadows. 

Regardless of the no smoking policies, Sendak lights a cigarette, exhaling a gust of smoke. He can pay the cleaning fee. “Not here. Won’t ever be here.” 

Keith’s face scrunches up, but before he can start to cry, Sendak turns on him with a sharp glare. This kid cost him several grand and his friendship with Shiro, he can go and fuck right off. 

Luckily, the kid’s lip only wobbles, and Sendak sends him to his room when they arrive, this time with a full plate of food. He’s not making that mistake again. 

Groaning, he plops down on the couch, rubbing his forehead from the stress headache that only fades after five or six downs of scotch. He flicks on the TV, zoning out as he watches the game, faintly hearing the sound of the other TV from the kid’s room. 

At around 11:30, the elevator dings. Sitting up, Sendak’s hand hovers over the gun Shiro gave him for his birthday in the couch side table, narrowing his eyes as the doors slide open. 

\- to see Shiro standing there, eyes frantic and cheeks hollow as he glances around the penthouse. 

“How the hell did you get past the doorman?” He accuses sharply, striding over to his former friend, who only clutches a large wooden box closer to his chest, trembling so hard that he can see it from across the room. 

“I…” Shiro trails off, gasping shallowly. “Can… can you give this to Keith? It was Krolia’s.” 

The wooden box is just a little bigger than his hand, intricately detailed with cranes and plant life. Just the look of it is ancient, and gives him the feeling it costs a pretty penny - way too much to be giving to a clumsy three year old. 

Sendak crosses his arms. “Why should I?” He asks shortly, only for Shiro to shudder. 

“_Please_,” he begs, grey eyes meeting his amber ones. 

Once again, he feels like shit. Fuck him, Shiro always has a way of getting under his skin. “Fine, give it to him yourself.”

Pure relief floods through Shiro’s face as he stumbles out of the elevator, cradling the box like it means the world to him as he makes an automatic beeline for Keith’s room, as it's the only spare room in the penthouse. 

To his surprise, when Shiro opens the door to see Keith sleeping on the floor in front of the turned off TV, he doesn’t try to wake him up. He only lays down next to him gently, brushing back one of Keith’s long strands of hair behind his ear. 

“I’m sorry, Keith.” Shiro breathes, smiling like the universe is in his eyes as he cups Keith’s cheek with a kind of love Sendak’s never experienced. “We’ll see each other again someday, I promise. I hope you’re happy without me.” 

Gently, he places the box right by Keith’s head, winding it up slowly. It takes a moment, but then the box slowly rattles, music slowly starting up as the lamellae is plucked. Keith hums in his sleep, eyelashes fluttering as he moves closer to the music, comforted by the mechanical chimes even in his sleep. 

Shiro kisses his head fondly, before slowly getting up, smiling with tears staining his cheeks. He nods at Sendak as he walks back into the elevator, gaze pained as his lips pull into a half hearted sort of smile, stars in the sky finally dying out under their own light, before the doors slide shut once and for all. 

:::

The next time he sees Shiro, it’s in a body bag. 

:::

“Neighbors heard the shot around three am.” The cops tells him sympathetically, pushing the evidence bag across the counter. “He was holding this.” 

He knows this already, he read the ME report after the police called him in, first to deliver the news, then for questioning, but he still holds the plastic bag with shaking hands, the white stuffed bunny staring back at him with beady eyes. 

A single gunshot wound to the right temple, the body was found lying horizontal on the bed, blood and brain matter smearing the cheap bedspread. All of his meager belongings were already boxed up, including his dog chains and phone, with notes telling the first responders what to throw out and what to give to Keith Akira Kogane upon the age of eighteen. 

There was a video recording, too. Several of them, taking place over the last three years. 

“I’m sorry for you loss.” The officer condoles, and Sendak’s hand tightens around the plastic bag. 

“We weren’t even friends.” He breathes. It sounds like a lie, and with the look the cop pins him with, he thinks he knows it to. 

Uncomfortable, suffocating heat gathers behind his eyes as he furiously blinks. “Thanks,” he rasps, turning on his heel with the bag held close to his chest. 

Before he can leave, someone touches his elbow gently, and he bares his teeth instinctively before realizing it’s just a petite woman, light grey hair pinned back in a messy bun with glasses resting on the tip of her nose. Her presence is as weak as a beaten cat, but her sharp eyes remind him almost painfully of Krolia. 

She smiles without any teeth. “I’m Dr. Sincline, do you have a moment to speak with me?”

:::

_ “Entry one,” Shiro says too close to the camera, backing away as he sits backwards in a plastic chair, arms crossed over the top with his chin resting on his forearms. “I’m still recovering from surgery, I just got my prosthetic. All the staff have been really nice so far, but something just feels…off.” He shrugs. “I don’t know. They ask me how I'm feeling, but I can never…explain. It all just feels so fuzzy, and it's easier to just not think about it. Besides, I'm gonna have more important things to worry about soon." _

_ Tilting his head up to the ceiling, Shiro blinks tired eyes up at the panels, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “I’m going to be a dad, soon.” He says wonderingly, almost like it’s a secret to the camera. “I never thought I would, you know? Being gay and in the military didn't afford me much choices, but I always…I always wanted.” _

_ “I never even met the kid, but I’m already so excited.” Shiro confides, eyes glowing in the poor lighting. “I promise you Keith, I’m never gonna leave you. You’re gonna have the best dad ever soon, just you wait. Entry one, out.” _

:::

“Sen-Sen?” His head jerks up from where it was buried in his hands, sending the kid a disbelieving look. That’s a new one. “Okay?” 

He sighs, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?” It half surprises him, the idea of asking what a three year old is feeling, but Keith shyly smiles anyhow, pulling himself up on the couch next to him with the wooden box in his hands. 

“Hurts.” Keith scoots closer to him, pressing himself against his designer slacks, yet Sendak can’t find the urge to be irritated. 

“Again? Did you drink milk?” He narrows his eyes, but the kid hurriedly shakes his head. 

“No here,” he points at his stomach, than to his chest. “Hurt here.” His face twists up in expression that’s both surprisingly complicated, yet simple at the same time. “Miss Dada.” 

Three years old don't understand death, but they can fathom the idea that someone is never going to come back. It still hurts. 

He blinks, averting his gaze to the glass of scotch in his hands. “Me too.” He says, too genuine for comfort. Keith pats his arm, before turning his attention to the box in his hands. The toddler starts to wind it up, smiling softly as the music starts to play. 

“That’s your mother’s music box, isn’t it?” He thinks back, remembering Shiro’s words from less than a couple of days ago. “I didn’t know she was even into that kind of shit.” 

Keith blinks, then shrugs, obviously not remembering such a trivial detail. “Dada play.” The music slows to a stop, so the toddler hurriedly cranks it on again. “Keith and Dada music.” 

The chimes pick up in speed, and Keith hums along with it, soft gaze stuck on the slowly moving handle. Sendak sips at his now lukewarm scotch, eyes distant as the two of them listen to the music in silence for several minutes. 

Eventually, he’s either going to cry or start screaming, so he roughly messes up Keith’s hair before the boy can go in for another spin. “Go back to your room, will ya?” 

Keith slowly nods, retreating back to his bedroom with several anxious glances over his shoulder at him before disappearing around the corner. Sendak leans back, exhaling, before sitting up and digging through his pockets for a cigarette 

With his other hand, he yanks his phone out, closing his eyes as he regrets what he’s about to do. Not enough to _ not _do it, though. “Dr. Sincline? I want to take you up on your offer.” 

:::

The Replicant Program is Dr. Honerva Sincline's newest experiment, still heavily kept under wraps. It involves transporting human memories into android bodies, something that wasn’t available to the mass media yet. 

He knows that she’s just using his grief, and his money to fund her, but he doesn’t care. If it works, if it works… 

:::

_ “Entry fourteen, why did I decide to adopt Keith?” Shiro groans, collapsing on his bed with his limbs spread eagle. “He wouldn’t eat any of his peas today, and he cries nonstop if I try to leave him at daycare. He also peed on me - right in the face. The people in the parenting class warned me this could happen, but I didn’t think it would actually!” Shiro throws his hands up, looking done with the world. _

_ “But then again, he’s the cutest thing ever.” He chuckles quietly, sitting up to pull open his bedside table. “He’s started to call me Dada, well more like he says ‘da’ so many times in a row that it sounds like a machine gun at anything that moves, but I’m counting it.” _

_ With a chocolate bar in hand, Shiro rips the plastic open with his teeth, quickly chomping down on the candy. “God,” he moans dramatically. “I know future me is going to judge, but it’s cheat day and I deserve a treat. So future me, shut up. Entry out.” _

:::

He hoses the kid down with the shower head, ignoring his squeaks at the lukewarm water. “You reek,” he says plainly when Keith gives him a betrayed look, long hair clinging to his head. The kid really does have the longest hair for a boy, it was to his shoulders when Sendak took him in, and now it’s all the way down past his collarbones, thick curls spiraling out of control. 

“Ladnok,” he says to his secretary later that day. “Why are little kids hair so curly?” 

She blinks at him in surprise, especially at the subject matter. “I…don’t know.” She says, and before the disappointment can sink in, she continues. “I do know it’s because they haven’t had a haircut yet, for some reason.”

“Oh.” Sendak rolls the thought around his head for a while. “You’re dismissed.” 

A part of him, a big part of him, knows that his sudden interest in Keith’s life is just because of his guilt over Shiro’s - death. It’s just a superficial interest that will wane with time. 

But while it’s still around, he should get some things done. Including finally getting a babysitter for the kid, instead of just locking him up in his room all night. He doesn't need CPS on his ass again. 

He heads over to Dr. Sincline’s office after work, escorted down several flights of stairs. Cyberlife has the market of androids, and the official patent for the designs, but Galra HQ has their hands pretty deep in many politicians pockets, so they were able to get their hands on some of the schemes. 

All of this is explained in the long elevator ride down, Dr. Sincline sending him increasingly annoyed looks at his cigarette, which he ignores until she tears it out of his hands and crushes it beneath her shoe. 

“This lab is full of highly flammable material, if my research goes up into flames, then I will have your head.” She delivers coldly, spinning on her heel out of the doors once they reach her private lab. 

“I don’t doubt it.” He states back just as dryly. “Now, how far are you with Shiro?”

She blows out a puff of air, her bangs fluttering. “Its central A.I. is still powered off, but we’re working on building it a body in the meantime.” Her heels clack across the tile loudly as she leads him further into the lab, sliding her ID against the scanner and ushering him into a room. 

It’s stranger - almost in an uncanny valley kind of way, to see Shiro without his skin being held up by metal contraptions, missing all of his limbs except for his left leg and half of his head open to show the inner workings of an android’s systems. 

There is something weird though. “Why is he missing a dick?” He asks bluntly, only to have Dr. Sincline choke. 

“We’re low on materials, so it was deemed unnecessary.” Dr. Sincline coughs, clearing her throat before her focused expression drifts back to Shiro. “Besides, most domestic models don’t have the capability for sex, only companion androids, so it would take us additional _ weeks _to acquire the materials and programs. Rather a bit much for a single feature.” 

Dr. Sincline almost looks in love with him, pressing a hand reverently against the metal supporting his head. “I’m gonna write so many papers about this.” She breathes. 

Rolling his eyes, he takes a seat by the door, crossing his legs as the machines continue their slow but steady work.

It’s all up to Shiro now. 

:::

When he arrives home from work now, it’s often with a weight being flung at his knees. “Sen-Sen!” Keith shouts, Sendak grimacing at the echo in his mostly minimalist penthouse. Malocoti Wolff is the longest babysitter yet, most of them either getting too frustrated with Keith, or with Sendak’s long and erratic hours. 

“Get off me, kid.” He rolls his eyes, pushing the kid’s head away until he can walk again. Unfortunately, if that was all that took to deter Keith, the kid wouldn’t be called stubborn, so the three year old follows on his heels adoringly. “How was he?” 

Malocoti smiles brightly. “Great! No problems at all, we just colored -”

Sendak waves his hand, her smile faltering. “As long as he doesn’t kill himself, I don’t particularly care.”

The kid tugs at his slacks. “Sen-Sen, Sen-Sen,” he whispers loudly. “Sen-Sen!” 

“Jesus kid, shut up.” He groans, annoyed with the shocked expression Malocoti wears like a suit of armor. She can’t honestly tell him she doesn’t feel like taping his damn mouth shut some days. Glancing down, he scowls at the sight of a new stuffed animal in Keith’s arms. “_What _ is that?”

Malocoti gently rests a hand on Keith’s, drawing him back softly. “I-I found it in your room, we were looking for some spare toothpaste and he liked it. I’m sorry.”

Glaring at the stuffed bunny in his arms, the last thing Shiro saw before he shot himself, he grunts and looks away. “It’s fine. I’m doing some more work, keep him alive _ and _quiet preferably.” 

Malocoti purses her mouth, but eventually nods her acceptance, taking Keith’s hand and leading him away. He can’t stand people like her, who think they’re holier than thou all because they hide their annoyance rather than show it. It’s not like he’s abusing the kid, he hasn’t once laid a hand on him, though when he found a crack in the TV screen he sure as hell felt like it. He just went down to the apartment’s gym and wailed on a punching bag until he could be in the same room as the toddler without smacking him right across his smug little face. 

His phone rings about an hour into work, and he picks it up with a distracted, “Yeah?” 

“_Mr. Sendak, Subject 22-01’s A.I is booting up." _Dr. Sincline says. “_It’ll be online in the matter of an hour._”

Sendak stands up, clutching the metal device to his cheek. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

He practically flies out the door, rushing towards Galra HQ. Shiro will be back soon, even if it’s in an android body, he doesn’t care, not if it means he can have his closest friend back again. 

Bursting through the basement lab, he pants wildly, a full blown smile emerging as he sees Shiro naked as the day he was born, blinking at everything with blank eyes and a new streak of white in his hair. 

“Shiro?” He calls, jogging forward lightly. “Hey, how you feeling?” 

Shiro just stares at him, hands neatly folded over his lap. “Who are you?” He finally asks, grey eyes expressing no emotion, face as blank as an android’s. “Who’s Shiro?” 

:::

He breathes shakily, hands clasped together. “What went wrong?” 

Dr. Sincline shakes her head, furiously writing down her notes.”I don’t know, we used the basic PL600 Android programming as a base work, perhaps…” 

“Perhaps _ what_?” He growls, and she makes a face at his tone, but answers anyhow. 

“Perhaps we can process human memory storage, but we can’t transfer the emotions to go through with.” She stops writing for a moment, fiddling with the pen in her hands and she stares at her notes contemplatively. “The memories are there, but it’s just an empty husk holding a few inaccessible gigabytes of data.”

:::

_ “Entry twenty-six, it’s my favorite mister’s birthday~” Shiro tickles Keith’s sides, who shrieks, butting into Shiro’s hand. “One is such a big milestone, I’m so proud of you, yes, yes I am.” He babytalks to the one year old, who looks distinctly unimpressed with the whole thing. _

_ “Future me, for when Keith is a bratty teenager, watch;” he says ominously, before gently placing Keith down on the bed next to him. Then he starts to fake cry. _

_ Keith immediately crawls into Shiro’s lap, throwing his arms around Shiro’s waist. “Bububu,” he babbles, but Shiro stops fake crying and nods like he understands. _

_ “Booboo all gone.” He agrees graciously. Looking back at the camera, he sticks his tongue out playfully. “Well, I gotta get back to party preparations, all the neighbors are coming and some of the kids from daycare too. And you can out crawl all of them, can’t you? The people at daycare can’t stop complaining about you sneaking away to play instead of napping like a good little boy.” Shiro babytalks again, kissing all over Keith’s face, and the baby takes it for about two kisses before he tries to hide his face in Shiro’s shirt. _

_ Laughing, Shiro lets him, smoothing back his hair with obvious adoration in his eyes. “Future me, hopefully this party goes as good as I planned, considering I worked overtime to buy a cake for Keith to smash his face in.” He scoffs jokingly. “America.” _

_ Saluting sloppily, he stands up, propping a smiling Keith on his hip. “Entry out.” _

:::

“What are you going to do with it?”

Dr. Sincline gathers her hair up, pinning it back up in a bun on the back of her head. “_Probably recycle its parts and do more research into what we did wrong. The memories are only transferable once, so we’ll have to wait until we can find someone else who died with their hippocampus relatively intact._”

He chugs his scotch and whiskey, slamming it down on his counter and wiping his mouth, staring at the wall with distant eyes. Keith’s asleep, he saw to that himself, since Malocoti shared some rather choice words about how he treated the kid before quitting. “...I’ll pay for the new materials, if I can keep it.” 

Dr. Sincline’s eyes are too sharp. “_I__t’s not your friend, Mr. Sendak. It’s just a machine with a couple stray bits of data._”

“Nah,” he smirks wryly, waving his hand dismissively at the video feed. “I’m just in need of another babysitter, that’s all.” 

:::

Shiro looks around curiously the penthouse apartment, hands folded behind its back. “You have a very nice place,” it notes, looking straight at the uncovered scotch bottle. 

He rolls his eyes. “Sure, sure. Rules are that you don’t go into my bedroom, only to clean the bathroom. Don’t go outside, I'll bring the mail in, and the trash chute in in the hallway. And oh, don’t touch my work stuff.” The bedroom and work was obvious, but he also didn't want Shiro wandering outside and someone recognizing it by chance. 

Waving a hand, he ducks into the kid’s room, beckoning him out. “I have someone for you to meet.” 

Keith scrambles to his feet, trying to grab Sendak’s hand with his grubby fingers, but he just yanks his hand away. Not in the mood today, not at all. 

Opening the door, he urges the kid out into the living room, who stops dead in the doorway with large eyes and the stuffed bunny held close to his chest like he could disappear beneath the cotton, trying to hide behind Sendak’s leg before he grabs his arm and pulls him out from there, forcing him to face his new reality. “Get over here.” 

“TA400,” because that thing wasn’t Shiro, it just _ looks _like him. “This is Keith, someone you’re going to be taking care of from now on. You have some kind of software for kids, right?”

The thing bows its head slightly towards the two of them. “Yes, Mr. Sendak.” 

He grimaces, but nods his head anyhow. It _was _based off a PL600 domestic model, after all. “Guessed at much. I’m going back to the office now, don’t let the kid die.”

And like the coward he is, he leaves Keith and the android that used to be his father alone in the apartment, lighting a cigarette as the elevator slowly descends towards freedom and away from the heavy oppressive weight of past regrets. 

:::

When he arrives, it’s to Keith playing the damn music box, standing in front of the perfectly kneeling android with something desperately yearning in his eyes. But it only just stares at Keith, occasionally smiling politely an specific intervals with the stuffed bunny limp in its hands. 

“Kid,” he barks, and he swears Keith looks relieved as he rushes towards Sendak, gripping his slacks. He shakes him off, motioning Shiro to stay down as he walks towards the kitchen. 

“What, not happy about your dad being back?” He mocks, and Keith just stares at him, bottom lip trembling. Great, now he fucking feels like an asshole. Turns out Shiro isn't the only one who can do that. 

“Shi’ro.” Keith mutters, patting his chest. “Shi’ro no Dada.” 

Fuck. 

Face twisting up, Keith turns on his heel and runs back to Shiro, throwing himself in its arms. Shiro blinks in surprise, looking down in Keith in a delayed reaction, before eventually patting his back. 

Even from here, Sendak can see the way Keith squeezes Shiro’s waist, silent as a mouse, while the music box continues to play. 

:::

God, he hates it. 

He hates the way Shiro, his friend, is now reduced to a few pieces of data a machine keeps locked away in storage. He hates that Keith still prefers the android over him, often hiding behind its leg whenever he arrives home from work. He hates how it looks at Keith, once full of so much love, reduced to just binary numbers dictating its orders. There’s nothing there anymore, while Keith continues to act like it hung the moon and the stars, but at least the kid seems to recognize that its not his dad. 

Downing another gulp of scotch, he watches them interact with dull eyes from where he’s doing his work on the couch. Keith sits in the thing’s lap, waving the stuffed rabbit around as he babbles aimlessly, which he tunes out almost entirely. 

“What’s his name?” Shiro asks monotonously, pulling at the ear of the rabbit to force Keith's attention down. 

Keith mouth parts as he considers the question. “Bunny.” He tries to name, but his entire body radiates dissatisfaction with the name. “Bunny, in Shi’ro.” Keith tries to clarify, but it still doesn’t seem to help. 

“In Shiro?” The android asks, tilting its head. 

“Ugh!” Keith tosses the stuffed rabbit down, climbing out of Shiro’s lap. “Stay!” 

Shiro sits obediently as Keith runs to his room, returning shortly with a small children’s book in hand. “Look, see -” He yelps as he trips over Sendak’s charger, ripping the laptop off the coffee table and sending it clattering against the tile floor. 

“You little shit!” Sendak swears, narrowing his eyes when he grabs the laptop, only to see the screen completely black and shattered. Keith backpedals away, staring up at him with terrified blue eyes as he marches across the living room. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Keith flinches when he grabs him by the shoulders, shaking him back and forth. “That thing cost more than your inheritance, you fucking moron! You’re lucky I don’t -” 

He reels back when a hand plants on his chest and pushes him back, gaping as Shiro smoothly steps between the two of them, holding the back of Keith’s head protectively against its leg. “What the fuck?” He sputters when he gets his bearings back, wiping his mouth as Shiro seemingly narrows its eyes at him. 

“While Keith is three, he’s still in the risk age for Shaken Baby Syndrome.” Shiro delivers emotionlessly, Keith hiding his face in Shiro’s android uniform. “Symptoms include brain bruising, swelling, bleeding, damage, and ultimately death. If you shake Keith again, I will call emergency services.” 

It almost sounds like a threat. 

Sendak shakes his head, completely taken aback. “He fucking broke my laptop!” 

“I repeat,” is it just him, or does Shiro sound _ angry_? “If you lay a hand on Keith again, I will call the police.” 

To be honest, it’s not Shiro’s threats that stop him. Androids are programmed to obey their masters, so long as that order doesn’t harm another living being, there's nothing about _preventing_ a human from being hurt. If he orders it to stay out of it, it will. So it’s not that. 

It’s the quiet hitched breathes he can hear from Keith, all too familiar. 

It’s the sound of a child muffling their sobs so that they won’t be found. Sendak made those sounds for eighteen years. 

Biting his lip, he stagger back, quickly covering his face and retreating back to his office. But not without seeing the dropped children’s book on the floor, declaring in bright lettering _ Japanese words for animals - a children’s guide_. One of the few things Keith received from Shiro, the real one, the alive one, that didn't go into storage. 

It’s when he’s in his office, about to shut the door, that he hears Keith’s unsteady breathing as fabric rustles. “Usagi.” Keith whispers, as light as a feather. “Name Usagi.” 

:::

Months go by. 

Sendak downs another glass of scotch, scowling at Shiro kneeling on the ground talking to Keith. He can’t hear them from the kitchen, but he can see Shiro’s mechanical smile, and Keith’s answering beam. 

While the kid calls it ‘Shi’ro’ now, with the ridiculously slurred suffix, he still acts like the android’s his parent. Always walks around holding its hand, laying in its lap or going to the android for comfort after every bad dream or scrape. The kid’s dad is dead - that _ thing _is not his parent. Sendak is now. 

“I’m not a good father, huh.” He repeats that long ago memory from the restaurant, the taste of alcohol and stale burgers clinging to his lips as he stumbles to his feet. “Shiro!” 

“Yes, Mr. Sendak?” Shiro blinks at him, standing up as Keith hurries to hide behind its leg, holding the fucking music box in its hands. He scowls, motioning for it to get out of the way. It takes a few delayed seconds, but eventually Shiro steps to the side, leaving Keith standing alone like a deer in the headlights. 

“Don’t you usually take a bath at this time?” He interrogates, and when Shiro goes to open its mouth, he pins it with a glare, waiting until the toddler hesitantly nods. “I’ll do it this time.”

“Sir, you’ve consumer approximately two hundred and forty milliliters of hard liquor, I would not -” 

“Quiet.” Shiro’s jaw snaps shut, something passing over its eyes before it's gone. Sendak grabs Keith’s small hand and starts dragging him to the bathroom, irritation rising as Keith keeps looking back at Shiro like a fucking piece of plastic gives a shit about him. “Keith, c’mon!” The kid’s head snaps to Sendak, swallowing as he flicks on the light and turns on the tab for hot water. 

But Shiro follows after them, hovering in the hallway with unusually large eyes. After Keith strips, he waits until the shaking kid climbs into the tub before passing the kid the soap bar. “You know what to do,” he orders, voice gruff as Keith glances nervously at the android standing in the doorway. 

“What?” He barks, inexplicably annoyed with Shiro’s presence. 

Shiro’s jaw flexes. “Sir, I must advise you that this is not a safe course of action -”

“You know what,” Sendak begins, dangerously. He stands up, glaring at the fake Shiro, who’s taken _ everything _away from him. Krolia never loved him, Keith never loved him, his own parents didn’t - and the one person he thought did was just a liar who cared about a snot nosed brat more than he did about his own friend. “Don’t move a goddamn muscle, or I swear to god I will put a bullet in your skull.” 

Shiro stiffens, but its face smooths over at the order, hands tightening around the music box as it hides them behind its back, straightening its back until it’s looking straight ahead. 

But it's not enough. He doesn't know when it will be, other than it hurts, and he wants it to stop. 

“You’re not him, you’ll never be him!” He yells, pushing past it as he sways back to the living room, chugging the rest of his scotch. Gasping, he shakes his head violently, throwing the bottle at the far wall. “You’re just a goddamn machine that looks like him!” 

Distantly, there’s the sound of a splash. 

He slams his hand against the wall, closing his eyes as fury and grief wage inside of him. “Everything would have stayed the same if the fucking plane hadn’t malfunctioned. And I was supposed to have checked the engine, but I didn’t.” 

It’s all his fucking fault. Krolia’s death is all his fault. Shiro’s death is all his fault. 

“Mr. Sendak,” Shiro says, LED sliding yellow. Its eyes are pinned to the inside of the bathroom, dark pupils contracting. 

Sendak rounds on him. “What did I fucking say?! Jesus christ, does nobody listen to me around here?” Mumbling to himself, he picks his way around the shattered glass, pulling himself out another bottle of scotch. The burn trailing in his throat soothes, but also aggravates him at the same time. Much like the kid. 

“I should have left well enough alone, should have just forgotten about the two of you.” He laughs morosely, choking on his own self pity. “Too late now, I guess.”

The android doesn’t say anything, still as a statue. Grunting his frustration, he yanks the back of its uniform, glaring at it furiously. “Well, say something!” 

Shiro finally looks at him, LED sliding red. “Mr. Sendak, it’s Keith.” It almost urges, mouth opening to say more, but Sendak pushes him before it can, the android stumbling back with the goddamn box in its hands. 

“I don’t care,” he snarls, and Shiro freezes, eyes widening, before its head jerks towards the bathroom. There’s a moment of utter stillness, like it’s listening for something with sheer desperation. He too, strains for something to hear, but even in his _slightly_ tipsy stage he couldn't catch a thing.

And then the music box is clattering to the ground, the music starting up again violently off-key as Shiro lunges past Sendak into the bathroom, loud footsteps slamming through the doorway and towards the tub. 

“What the -” Sendak starts, leaning on the doorframe with a fuzzy glare, before his eyes catch on Keith.

Facedown in the water, unmoving. 

Shiro skids onto its knees, plunging his hand in the water and flipping the toddler around. The kid flops lifelessly, and Sendak retches at the _ empty _blue eyes staring unseeingly up to match with his blue lips underneath the lukewarm water. 

It’s too late, fuck it’s too late. Sendak collapses to his knees, unable to tear his gaze away from Shiro pulling the sopping wet body out of the bathtub. The kid hits the floor with a horrible thunk sound, his naked body splayed across the tile as Shiro places a single hand on his chest, pushing down with its other hand laced on top. 

A single hand, because he’s only three. Child CPR - they learned it in basic, in order to not completely crush their ribcage inward like it would with adult CPR. 

“This is Javeeno Sendak’s android, at 70A Onslow Parkway, I have a three year old unresponsive in the tub, no pulse or breath.” Shiro says, its red LED spinning in a call with 911. “Please hurry.” 

Tipping Keith’s head back, Shiro blows futile rescue breathe into Keith’s slack mouth, barely managing to give him two breaths before it hyperventilates, crystalline tears dripping onto the wet ground. “One, two, three…”

The music continues to play.

:::

When toddlers drown, it’s like this:

They’re top heavy, so when they tilt too far forward, they’re unable to sit themselves back up without help. Once they’re under the water, they start to panic, trying to pull themselves back up, but the tile is too slick and they don’t have the upper body strength to roll onto their back when they're panicking. They choke. Water enters their lungs. They suffocate. Their brain starts killing off brain cells from lack of oxygen. The longer they’re under the water, the more their cells dies. Their lungs fill with water, seeping into their cells until they burst. Organ failure begins. 

Eventually, past six minutes in freshwater, they won’t recover. 

Keith was under for eight. 

The ventilator beeps loudly, forced breaths in and out of Keith’s broken ribcage from Shiro's CPR for over twenty minutes. He’s so - tiny, the oxygen tube taking up the entirety of the bottom part of his face. There’s a lump of wires around his neck from where they have some technology to keep his heart beating, and another lump under the blanket for a feeding tube. 

Sendak fills out form after form next to the small hospital bed, feeling the glare of the pediatricians digging into his back. The only reason he’s out of jail right now is that he paid bail.

They’re - they’re doing scans now, they tell him haltingly, when he asks, to see if Keith still has any brain activity left.

But 

He’s not breathing on his own. His heart doesn’t pump blood without support. 

It’s - not likely. 

Sendak keeps signing. The machinery keeps beeping.

:::

On July 9th, 2035, Keith Kogane, age three years and eight months, is declared brain dead. 

“We could keep him on life support, until you decide what to do,” someone tells him, but Sendak just shakes his head, an uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes. 

“I need to go home,” he breathes, grabbing his bag and leaving Keith’s too still body in the hospital bed. He doesn’t cry - because he doesn’t care about the kid, he doesn’t, so he doesn’t cry while the elevator takes them up even if he feels like throwing something, anything, just make the pain stop. 

Music greets him as he steps into the apartment, the same mechanical chimes repeating on loop quietly and his feet move without his input towards Keith’s room. 

Shiro doesn’t look up when he stands in the doorway, it’s entire focus on the music box in its hands from where its sitting on the edge of Keith’s bed. The wood casing has a large crack right across the crane's elongated neck from where it was dropped, and while the music plays, there’s no movement from the crank. 

“It’s broken,” Shiro whispers, thumbing along the edge of the lid. “The music won’t stop.” 

His hand tightens on the doorframe as Shiro reverently places the box on the bed, before standing up and striding towards him. The android doesn’t say anything for several long moments, and Sendak opens his mouth to do…something, when he notices distantly that Shiro’s crying. 

“I want him back,” Shiro mutters, hands slowly coming up to grip the lapels of his jacket. Its grip tightens, and Sendak can only blink as Shiro tugs him down, glaring up at him furiously with red-rimmed eyes. “Give my baby back to me!” 

Sendak tries to shake his head, but Shiro’s yanks him down until they’re nearly nose-to-nose, and he’s stunned into silence at the stars once again ablaze in its eyes. “It’s all your fault!” Shiro nearly shrieks, slamming Sendak up against the wall. “Give him back! Give him back!” 

“He’s dead!” Sendak bursts out, swallowing at the way Shiro’s entire face spasms, the air punched out of it as it gasps, abruptly letting go of Sendak’s jacket and stumbling back, sitting too heavily on the floor next to the bed. For a minute, the only sounds in the room is Shiro’s wretched breathing and the constant chimes of the music box. 

“Keith was declared brain dead this morning,” he continues quietly, flinching at Shiro’s keen. “I’m pulling the plug later today.” 

Shiro covers its face, moaning lowly as if its entire soul is being torn a shred. “...what you did with me.” 

“What?” He’s not sure he heard it correctly. 

Shiro slowly lifts its head, lips pulled back in a snarl in an expression eerily similar to the one its human namesake wore the day after Sendak got custody. 

“Do what you did with me with him.” Shiro hisses out, tears slipping out the corners of its eyes. 

The Replicant Program was a failure - Shiro’s consciousness was never transferred to an android body. His memories were given to an android who can barely access them, perhaps not because the PL600 coding was too strong, but that the android already had their own consciousness. 

The android, an empty emotionless machine, who’s sobbing on the floor of its son’s dead bedroom. 

Sendak bites his lip, the uncomfortable pressure increasing until he’s blinking back his own wet eyes, Keith’s bright smile flashing behind his eyelids before it’s swallowed up by him on the hospital bed, drowning under the wires. Drowning. 

He exhales. Inhales. “Fine.” 

:::

_ “Entry thirty two.” Shiro says hoarsely, bloodshot eyes staring into the camera. “My therapist, when I could afford her, told me that writing about what I feel could help me.” His mouth contorts, raising his right arm weakly. “Well, writing is out unless I want it to look like absolute shit, so these video diaries will have to do.” _

_ Yawning, Shiro grumbles and slaps his face gently. “No, no stay awake. Have to wait until the tremors go away.” Shaking his head, he sits up straighter, glaring at the camera. “I fucking hate nightmares.” _

_ “They’re always the same thing too.” He glances off to the side of the camera to something off screen, before darting back to the lenses. “Though it’s more like a memory than a nightmare. I’m under the plane and I can’t breathe, the wing is crushing me me to death. I can’t, I can’t feel my right arm, but then Krolia comes.” _

_ A sharp intake of air. “I know, I know she was probably thrown from the plane or animals got her, but I _ swear _ she was there. I remember her touching my hair, telling me that everything was going to be okay and that she was going to get help.” _

_ Shiro glares at the camera, exhaustion pulling at every line of him. “It wasn’t a hallucination.” He states, lifting his chin up. “She’s still alive somewhere, I know she is.” _

:::

The doctors, the same ones who talk to him thinly veiled disdain, are still kind enough not to say a word as he presses his hand over his eyes, carefully breathing as Keith’s heartbeat flatlines. 

Pushing himself out of the room, he heads to the smoking courtyard, lighting himself a cigarette with shaking hands. Blowing out a puff of smoke, he fumbles for his phone, calling a number he didn’t think he ever would again. 

“Dr. Sincline? I have a favor to ask of you.” 

:::

“It’s a sad kind of soft,” Dr. Sincline says quietly, in the silence. “Children. You doom yourself to heartbreak, but they also make life worth living.” 

Sendak runs his hand through his hair, watching the construction of Keith. It never fails to make him feel disturbed to watch the slow progression of limbs coming together. “Do you have children?”

Her lips quirk. “One, a son. They grow up faster than you know - he met a girl lately, he’s thinking of proposing to her.” 

With her tone, he has a feeling she doesn’t approve, but she clears her throat and it’s right back to business. “Since Subject 22-08 is modeled after a child, there were some edits we had to make to its construction. Shorter battery life to force it into low power mode more often, limited ability to evolve, even the function to simulate illnesses and heat/cold sensitivity.” Dr. Sincline rants, running her hand down Keith’s skinless arm with the devotion worshipers give to gods. “He’ll the perfect replication of a three year old. Neither you or I will be able to tell the difference when I’m done.” 

And she’s right. 

:::

Sendak swallows at the sound of the music echoing when he steps back into the penthouse, but he doesn’t have anywhere to go, not when the concert in town has all the hotels booked and no friend is willing to lend him the couch for another night. 

He makes to go into his bedroom, even stops in the doorway, before he curses and turns on his heel. Fuck him. 

Shiro doesn’t even bother to blink up at him from where its curled around the music box on Keith’s bed, gaze staring at nothing with its hand still on the instrument. Muttering to himself, Sendak rubs his face, gingerly sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

“Um, hey.” Great start Sendak, really. “Keith should be ready in a couple more days.” 

The android shifts its gaze from the wall to him, still looking like its on the verge of tears. “I can’t forget,” it mumbles. “He tried to pull himself out, but he couldn’t get a grip on the sides, his hands kept slipping. I could hear…hear him choking. Trying so hard to catch his breath, but there was only...only more water.” 

He swallows, glancing away. “...I’m sorry.” 

Shiro’s head thumps against the bedspread, running its fingers along the crack in the wood. “I want to forget.” It rasps. 

“Why don’t you?” Androids could delete their memories, couldn’t they? 

But Shiro only shakes its head, blinking out a few more tears. “Can’t.” It explains shortly. “Core files are permanent.” 

He doesn’t know what to say for a long moment, biting his lip as he bounces his knees. Core files are things so fundamental to an android’s system, like how to process thirium, that if they were deleted in a hack attempt then the whole body would turn off permanently, so engineers made them undeletable but to the most sophisticated of staff. Dr. Hoverva Sincline is no different. But a memory as a file? 

Sendak looks at Shiro for a long moment, and can no longer lie to himself, that it - _ him _doesn’t care about Keith. He doesn’t know how, but a thing that can’t feel anything felt something for a little boy nobody left alive loved. 

“Can you hide the memory somehow?” He asks abruptly. “Make it so you can’t recall the incident?”

He can’t do much for this Shiro anymore, but he can do this. 

Shiro blinks, licking his lips. “I…I could make a virus to wipe my short term memory, everytime I think about Keith’s…” He trails off, screwing his eyes shut tightly. Shuddering, he curls tighter around the music box, mumbling to himself as he works out the logistics. 

Because is it really a memory, if you can’t remember thinking about it? 

:::

Keith stares back at him, but it’s not Keith, not the Keith everyone loved over him. 

They didn’t have optical units his shade of blue, so his eyes are a shade so dark they’re _ violet._ His hair is shorter too, baby curls gone and cut to his chin in the front, the rest curling around the nape of his neck. 

He’s naked, swinging his legs as his gaze travels around the lab with none of the fear expected of a three year old. Dr. Sincline is cheering her victory with her other colleagues, the successful implantation of human memories into an android, but Sendak can only feel dim horror at the little hums that escapes him. 

“Do you remember me?” He asks lowly, and Keith nods his head without looking at him. 

Sendak wonders…Does this Keith really have emotions, or is he just programmed to fake them so well that it seems like he does? 

“Want to go see Shiro?” He flinches when the only response is a little smile and another nod. That’s not Keith. Keith would have hopping in place to see his live in nanny, would have have already been trying to hold Sendak’s hand. Not this impassive attitude that can summon a smile when need be. 

The Replicant Program is meant to a breakthrough in technology, the ability to ascend the human race to another level. But yet as Sendak stares into Keith’s soulless eyes, all he can think is that they’re pinning their hopes on machines that don’t feel anything for them. 

Dr. Sincline is still distracted, so he dresses Keith in the clothes he brought, taking the android’s small hand and leading him out of the lab and back upstairs. Keith doesn’t say a word the entire car ride back, not even taking Sendak’s hand until he clears his throat pointedly, and with the order registered the android finally follows through. 

"I need you to promise me something." He says very, very carefully while they're in the elevator. Keith tilts his head to the side, silently waiting for him to go on. "Pretend that the previous Shiro never existed - It's always just been the android one." 

Keith watches him for a moment, expression still blank, but slowly nods. It's the best he's probably gonna get. 

Sendak squeezes Keith’s small hand, just once, as the doors to the penthouse slide open. He steps into the entryway, but doesn’t go any further, hearing the sounds of the music box coming closer. 

Faint footsteps echo down the hall, until Shiro shambles into view, eyes pinned on the cracked box in his hands. His eyes flick up, before they freeze, finally falling back into orbit on the little boy standing next to him. 

Sendak clears his throat, especially when both of them seem frozen in place staring at each other. “TA400, this is Keith, someone you’re going to be taking care of from now on.”

For the second time in his life, Sendak watches as the TA400 android ‘Shiro’, falls in love all over again. 

The music box clatters to the ground, and Shiro has his arms around Keith in an instant, sobbing openly in his hair. Keith stares ahead impassively, even as his arms come up to wrap around Shiro’s back automatically. 

“My baby,” Shiro croons, clutching Keith’s head close to his chest as he lays kisses all over his hair. “My baby, oh my baby, I missed you so much. I love you, I love you, please don’t ever leave me again. Oh god, I love you so much, you’re everything to me.”

And Keith’s expression…falters. Violet eyes slowly turn to look at Shiro, blinking several times almost in confusion. The child presses a hand over his chest, as if there was some kind of pain, before inhaling sharply, bringing his other hand up to bite on his thumb, something he’s never seen him do before. “Shi…” He licks his lips, tears slipping past as he stares at the other android, small hands coming up to wipe Shiro’s own tears. “Shi’ro, Shi’ro, Shi’ro…” He repeats like a benediction, like a memory coming to life as Shiro wipes Keith’s tears away as well. “Love you, Shi’ro.” 

Shiro’s grin is brighter than the sun, even as he chokes on another sob. “I love you too, I love you so much.” 

With one last longing chime, the music box finally slows to a stop, broken beyond repair as its owners hug each other, relieved tears as both of them reunite on the entryway floor.

:::

Two more years pass like this. 

Sendak can’t bare to be around them, not when Shiro holds up a spoonful of cereal to Keith’s protesting mouth, cooing gently until Keith gives in and swallows it with an utterly revolted expression before running to the bathroom to spit it out. Not when Keith holds the stuffed bunny close and adverts his eyes from Sendak like he’s caught in a lie about his very species, snuggling closer to Shiro’s side as he avoids him like the plague. Not when he hears Shiro talking to Keith late at night only a month after their reunion, hand on his temple where an android’s LED would rest, only that Dr. Sincline deactivated it to better complete the illusion. 

“I want you to look at me, okay?” Shiro whispers in the dark kitchen, unnoticing of Sendak leaving his room to get a midnight snack. “I want you to look at me, and tell me if this hurts.” 

The android has his other hand on the open back of Keith’s open neck, right where his port is, finger tips bathed in blue light from Keith’s interior skeleton. “Mmh.” Keith smiles. 

“I’m gonna link your coding to mine.” Shiro explains, his LED spinning yellow as his fingertips dig deeper into Keith’s skeletal system. “For your safety, so you’ll have to listen to me if you’re in distress. I’m not your master though, okay? I’m Shiro, and I won’t order you unless I have to.” 

Keith withdraws a little bit into himself, hugging the stuffed bunny close to his chest. Shiro gives him time to decide, the idea of Shiro messing with his program obviously unnerving him. Meeting Sendak’s eyes over Shiro’s shoulder, Keith bites his thumb. 

“Okay.” His voice is tiny, but the relief in Shiro is palatable as his shoulders drop. 

“Thank you, baby. You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” And then both of them go still, pupils dilating as they share a conversation only they can hear, and he turns away, regret heavy in his bones. 

:::

Life catches up to them. 

Zarkon Sincline is a harsh man, with a sick wife and a lot of resources at his disposal. He waves the file in front of Sendak’s too pale face, a cruel smirk tugging up his scarred features. 

“Subjects 22-02 to 07 either failed or self-destructed due to miscellaneous reasons. You gained 01 through a deal with Honerva, and 08 went missing from the labs before the entire Galra HQ was hit with ethic lawsuits.” Zarkon tells him, smirking with cruel confidence as he pulls out a single sheet of paper, with a photo of Keith’s face in the hospital bed stapled at the top. “Your friend Haxus in the justice department covered your tracks pretty well and made your case disappear, but_ criminal negligence_? Drunk while giving your foster son a bath, I wonder how well that will go over with the jury? Minimum will probably fifteen to life.” 

He swallows, hands digging in his slacks. “....What do you want?” 

Zarkon grins, piling up the papers again. “I want my wife back. And I want the evidence of her research in either 01 or 08. You have two weeks.” 

:::

Sendak watches them play together, head resting on his chin as Keith skips, the stuffed bunny raised above his head as he babbles to Shiro, who’s sitting cross legged on the floor smiling in amusement. 

He has his choice - Shiro or Keith. Two people who he both cared for, and lost in the span of a single year. 

But neither of them are the Shiro or Keith he remembers. 

He thinks of Keith’s empty blue eyes under the water, of Shiro’s lostness without the boy around. Of the music box playing on repeat, echoing around the empty penthouse as Shiro cries over a boy who was the final note in their family of tragedy. 

Turning on his tablet, he scrolls down the list of Cyberlife domestic androids. Someone needs to keep Keith company all day. 

:::

“Where’s the brat?” He asks, handing his coat over to Shiro. Keith is usually up at this hour - while he doesn’t need to sleep like a human, he does have to go into low battery mode pretty frequently to recharge, but playing around in the house isn’t enough to deplete his battery enough that he doesn’t wake up when he hears the elevator, even if it’s usually to stare at him from around a corner. 

“Keith is asleep, Mr. Sendak.” Shiro says, voice light and airy from right behind him. “And I want to keep it that way, so stay quiet please.”

“Wha -” There’s sharp burn digging into his abdomen, tearing through his midsection. The cold metal digs through the tender muscles of his back, before being pulled back with a sickening rip. 

He spins, hand over his back to stem the blood, but his legs are already weak, and Shiro’s smiling at him with utter glee in his eyes as he buries the knife again in his stomach, both of them toppling to the ground. 

Gagging, blood smears across the tile floors as he spasms, hands scrambling at the front of Shiro’s android uniform, but the knife is torn out again and again, and he’s feeling weaker and weaker - 

Soft footsteps emerge on his peripheral, and he blinks up at the sight of Keith staring at both of them, mouth parted at the slowly growing pool of blood. Sendak reaches out for him - to do what, he doesn’t know, but Keith steps back, hiding his face away from him behind his stuffed bunny.

His hand hits the floor with a splash, blackness encroaching on the edge of the vision. No, no, he doesn’t want to die, not without telling Shiro that… 

::: 

_ “This is to Keith, when you’re all grown up.” Shiro says to the camera, deep shadows under his eyes as he tries to smile, before giving up and covering his face for a moment. After taking several deep breaths, he removes his hand, looking much more composed. “Hi, honey. Oh, you probably won’t like me calling you that anymore, huh?” _

_ He chuckles humorlessly. “I hope you become someone kind and strong, someone as courageous as your mother on the front lines being shot at and as kind as your father who ran into a burning building to save a family. But no matter what you become, I’m always going to love you and be proud of you.” _

_ Shiro takes a deep breath. “You’re my little sun, baby. I want you to know that what I do next isn’t at all your fault. You made these past few years of my life the greatest years I’ve ever had.” He swallows, tears brimming on the edge of his eyelids. “I had issues before I met you, a lot of issues I suppressed and pretended didn’t exist. There’s a lot of reasons why I’m doing this, but none of it is because of you, okay?” _

_ Wiping his eyes, he manages to smile, closing his eyes as he beams at the camera. “I hope Sendak takes good care of you in my place, and even if you don’t remember me, that you’ll remember that someone cares about you.” _

_ “I love you, Keith. I always will.” _

_ Click. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it folks! The explanation of Shiro and Keith's incredibly complex relationship, I'm so excited for the next chapter which expands more on that in modern day! 
> 
> Kudos to those that guessed Keith was an android all along! There's a huge list I have somewhere about here about the hints that was given about Keith's less than human behavior, but I'm;; tired. So maybe another day. 
> 
> Also if you hate Sendak join the club, ayy. It was very hard to write from a narrator so self-involved but also with an insecurity problem so big it makes Lance's seem like a walnut in comparison lol. 
> 
> See you next week!


	15. Blue and Red Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro talks with Keith about his secret, and Shiro makes a big decision on how he feels towards Keith, once and for all. 
> 
> Also Hunk accidentally cockblocks the Shance. So sorry not sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter limit went up;; again;;; what the fuck
> 
> Also a couple lines are inspired from a scene from Detroit Become Human because they're really good lines man Idk I'm half awake typing this but I loved it so much the first time I saw it

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: PM 9:03:17

They sit in the wake of crashed desks, both breathing unsteadily as long buried memories flicker to life behind Shiro’s eyes. Keith’s first wobbling steps, long nights in front of the muted TV rocking a sick toddler to sleep, his bright toothless smile, arms around his tiny waist as he lifts him up to better see the hippos, holding his small hands in his, chasing him around the playground as both of them shriek with laughter, running to greet him with excited screams at daycare pickup, the first time Keith pulled his bangs and called him _ dada _ and _ meant _ it, Keith, Keith, _ Keith_. 

Memories that don’t belong to him, of a boy who died face down in a bathtub because his guardian was too drunk to check in on him. 

“I couldn’t love that little boy.” He admits painfully, raw with emotion as his hands tighten around Lance’s wrists. “I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t love a _ loveless_ little boy.” 

Lance tucks his head against Shiro’s, closing his eyes as the thirium under his nose starts to evaporate. “Our coding is so strong Shiro, it’s not your fault. It took me an entire year of rape before I could break it.” 

He shudders. “I wanted to.” His voice breaks. “I wanted to love him like he loved me more than anything else. I wasn’t even his father - I’m still not.” 

Lance pulls back, moving to sit in front of him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you?’ 

With his hands feeling empty, he hugs himself, averting eye contact as he rocks on the base of his spine. He feels - oddly vulnerable. His house of cards was finally knocked down. “How am I his father? He drowned before I could feel anything for him.”

“That boy you loved is dead, true.” Lance states brutally. “But Keith is still alive.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, squeezing his arms in comfort. “I fooled myself into thinking that they were the same person - can I even say that I loved either of them?” 

“Of course you do!” Lance snaps with such vehemence that Shiro blinks in surprise. “You practically worship the ground he walks on -” 

“Keith isn’t him!” He barks, eyes watering up as he stares at his boots. 

It’s true. The little human boy playing the music box only his and his father shared died over two years ago. Takashi Shirogane with a bullet to his head after he realized, staring at the stuffed bunny he was going to give the toddler for Christmas, that he was never going to get his son back. Keith Akira Kogane when he leaned too far forward and aspirated on the bottom of a porcelain tub, unable to pull himself up to precious air that was just inches away. 

Lance takes a deep breath, like he’s considering what to say. “He’s not the Keith you remember - he never will be.”

Shiro flinches. “But you’re not the Shiro he remembers either.”

Glancing up at Lance, the other android smiles. “What difference does it make, really? Do you love him any less now that you remember the truth?” Lance reaches over with both hands, gently guiding Shiro’s hands away from scratching at his jacket and interlocks their fingers, squeezing just once. 

“Keith _ loves _you, Shiro.” Lance says softly, meeting his eyes. “He loves you more than anything in the whole world.”

Shiro bites his lip, wanting to climb out of his own skin, but Lance’s touch keeps him grounded. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he muffles his desperate keens, tears slipping down his face despite how hard he fights it. 

More urgently, Lance continues. “He became the little boy you so desperately wanted! And you became the father he craved.” Lance leans forward, tapping their foreheads together so the next words are breathed against his mouth. “You need each other. Is that so bad? Is it so bad that he’s one of us?”

“You’re not what each other remembers, but does it matter?” Lance swallows heavily, drawing back. “The entire time I was…I always wondered what it meant to be alive. But isn’t it just forgetting who you are, to become what someone needs you to be? You were made to be relics of the deceased, but both of you discarded that role for each other. That’s what love really is. That’s the love of someone who’s _ alive_, Shiro.”

Keeping eye contact, Lance smiles through his tears. “I don’t want to be that cruel thing humans made me become anymore. And you don’t want that either.” 

Shiro shudders, unable to look away from him. “We’ve met other humans besides our masters - humans that love each other _ and _androids. Don’t you want to be like that too?” Lance shakes his head, closing his eyes for a long moment. “I’m tired of the fighting, of the violence and feel of human blood between my fingers. That’s all I did for two months against everyone who hurt me.”

“I want to change. I want to be loving, I want to be gentle, I want to be the parents that Keith _ needs _us to be.” Shiro chokes on his tears, blinking furiously until Lance soothingly runs his thumb along the back of his hand. “I want to go to the park, push Keith on the swings, see a movie in an actual theater! Pet animals and have snowball fights and dance to music, knit Keith a sweater and do face painting, make scrapbooks and go swimming and get annoyed about the weather or the damn traffic. I want to live like humans! I want us to live and be a family! Don’t you want that too?” Lance urges, blue eyes furiously glancing around Shiro’s expression, searching for something. Shiro’s not sure if he finds what he’s looking for, but eventually Lance squeezes his fingers again. 

“You loved him when you believed he was a human - can you love him now that you know the truth?” 

Loosening their fingers, Lance climbs to his feet, slowly letting go of his hands. Their fingertips touch the other’s covered palms, caressing the fabric before Lance pulls away and Shiro drops his arms limply in his lap. “I’ll be in the gymnasium with Keith when you get your thoughts together, okay? Okay?” He presses, waiting until Shiro nods weakly before leaving. 

The click of the doorknob shutting behind him is too loud in the empty VPK room. Roughly wiping his face, he stumbles to his feet, eyes drawn to the supplies to keep Keith warm knocked to the ground during their fight. 

Unneeded, in the end, because Keith only simulates temperatures. Something that can be turned off with a simple touch. 

Breathing shallowly, he leans against the desk, bracing his weight as he tries desperately to catch his breathes that are so far out of reach. Keith isn’t who he thought he was. He was never that human boy who sat in front of an unfeeling Shiro playing that simple melody over and over with hope in his eyes that slowly died every time he manufactured a smile. He never will be. 

But he’s _ a _boy. A boy who stalked after a roomba like a cat, who laughed when the car broke down, who climbed into bed with him with a quiet confession, who drew a picture of them as a family, who played matchmaker with utter glee, who sat on his shoulders pointing towards the rides, who for their very first meeting cried relieved tears as they held each other. 

_ You loved him when you believed he was a human - can you love him now that you know the truth? _

He doesn’t know. 

Keith - _ this _Keith - will never grow up. He’ll be three years old eternally, never able to grow or evolve in any substantial way. Is that any way to live? Trapped in perpetual childhood, unable to experience the joys of human milestones. Can Shiro still love him, knowing this? That Keith will forever be dependent on the adults around him to take care of him. That Keith will never be able to experience the world in the way that Shiro had always hoped he would. 

Can he actually love Keith, for Keith?

:::

Several androids give him strange looks as he stands in the entryway of the gymnasium with red eyes from cleaning fluid overproduction. Why did programmers give them the ability to cry, if they’re shunned for having emotions all together? 

Lance glances up from where he’s reading the stolen children’s book out loud, expression unreadable as Keith waves at him happily from under Lance’s arm. Both of them are cuddled in a separate corner away from everyone else, Hunk and Shay gone somewhere else, with Romelle and her brother were playing a card game in their place. 

Clearing his throat, he tries to muster a smile. When he can't even lift the corners of his mouth up, he gives up. “Can I talk with Keith for a minute?” 

Lance just watches him for a long moment. “Sure.” He finally says, closing the book and helping Keith to his feet. The toddler waddles over to him, reaching his hand up, and hesitantly, Shiro grasps his tiny hand in his. Guilt and disgust aimed at himself swirls in his chest - what is he doing? 

Shiro leads Keith back out into the hallway, only able to make a couple steps before he sinks to the ground, head in his hands. The words he so badly wants to use float just out of reach, and he - he can’t find them. It's like he's choking on water, unable to tear himself back up to the surface. 

Keith hesitantly takes a seat next to him, tilting his head to the side. “Shi’ro?” He asks. “Okay?” 

He swallows this tears back heavily. “Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “I’m okay. No. No, actually…” Rubbing his hands harshly through his hair, he abruptly turns toward Keith, hand reaching out. 

Shiro hesitates, for a brief moment, before he finally cups Keith’s cheek, pressing his palm securely against the soft synthetic skin in a movement so familiar that Keith automatically leans into it with a soft hum. 

Then, he retracts his skin. 
    
    
    **MODEL TA400; SERIAL NUMBER #231 896 474 ESTABLISHING CONNECTION… **
    

Keith smiles, right as the skin of his cheek underneath Shiro’s metallic hand fades to plastic white. 
    
    
      **
    OK
      **
    

He's standing in the entryway of a small apartment, aged carpet and faded wallpaper with stains and rips along the walls. Despite the evidence of wear and tear, there’s clear love in the furnishings - a child’s drawings decorate the fridge until there’s barely a hint of the surface below, several small plants rest on the windowsill under the sunlight, bright colorful rugs depicting animals and trains working to cover the old carpet stains. 

Shiro turns his head to the side, blinking at Keith sitting on the ratty couch, knees up to his chest as he watches the TV play on the old box set, glowing blue LED spinning on the side of his forehead. Stepping closer, he realizes it’s the one they saw the day Shiro realized he was going to be replaced, playing on infinite loop for the toddler in an achingly familiar apartment. 

Familiar, because it’s the apartment Takashi Shirogane lived in, raised Keith in, and eventually killed himself in. 

“Keith?” He calls, voice trembling as Keith perks up at the sight of him, patting the seat on the couch next to him. “Where are we?” 

The toddler doesn’t say anything, only patting the cushion until Shiro gingerly sits down next to him. “I go when sleep.” Keith tries to explain, violet eyes flicking to the TV. His LED spins, and the TV rewinds back to the beginning of the episode. 

A…dream simulator? Glancing around, Shiro tries to focus on the details out the sunny window, but it’s like the apartment was plucked from reality and placed in Keith’s head. Handwriting catches his eye, and he turns for a moment, shuddering at the neat cursive written on the couch side table, right over the glass in perfect penmanship. 

_Honerva Sincline_

His breath catches in his throat. 

She's dead though. She's dead, and it's just the two of them pulled into Keith's mind. 

Keith leans against his side, head against his shoulder, and Shiro can only swallow thickly at his bright blue LED. Keith’s an android. Just like Lance. Just like him. An android, not a human boy. 

“What’s…what’s your model?” He asks, unable to resist the question. Keith doesn’t move his eyes away from the TV, utterly fascinated by Marvin the Squid. They must have missed all the recent episodes, he muses distantly, running all across Detroit like they have been. 

The toddler barely blinks. “TA500,” he says simply. 

Oh. Of course. The 500 denomination was given to all children models, and he’s part of the same line Shiro is. Subjects 22-01 and 22-08. The TA Replicant series. 

Did Keith know all along that Shiro was lying to himself? Or was he just going along with what he said because he didn’t know any better? He doesn't know anymore, and he doesn't think Keith does either. 

Was the affection Keith had for him real at all, or just the misplaced love for a dead man? 

Shiro threads his fingers through Keith’s dark hair. “Keith…you know I’m not your dada, right?” 

He will never be that man. He never can be, even if it’s what Keith wants from him. 

The toddler blinks, shifting his gaze from the TV up to the older android. For a moment, all they do is stare at each other, before Keith scoots closer, tilting his head up at him. “Shi’ro no Dada.” He agrees easily, seemingly not at all dismayed by his father's death. But, Takashi Shirogane also wasn't _his_ father. “Dada go bye-bye like Mama. That okay.” 

HIs breath hitches, but Keith only smiles up at him, eyes closing from the force of it. “I want Shi’ro.” He taps Shiro’s chest, right over his thirium pump. "Only Shi'ro, 'ever." 

Shiro, quite suddenly, finds himself crying. 

“I want you too,” he sobs brokenly. “It’s always been you, Keith.” 

Keith grins, giggling as Shiro sweeps him up in his arms, kissing the crown of his head furiously. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” He confesses achingly in a quiet voice, cupping Keith’s face. Shiro nuzzles their noses together, the skin of his hands fading back as he calls out to Keith in the void of the halfway place between an android’s wireless conversation. 

Something small and tentative answers. 

_ Love_, is the first thing Shiro feels. Keith may not be saying it, but it may as well be shouted across the city. Delicately, Shiro wraps his hands around the connection, letting Keith’s outpouring of emotions surge around him. It’s so unlike his own - so sharp and all consuming. Keith’s affection feels…soft. There’s no other word for it. Undefined at the edges and bleeding into everything he feels with his absolute trust in Shiro. It’s simple, and it’s beautiful for it. 

Keith pokes at his own emotions, brushing his hand along the pained tips where this Keith blends into the one from before. _ Hurt? _He almost seems to ask. 

Shiro shakes his head. No, not anymore. He’s let his grief destroy him for so many years now - and while it will always sting, it’s just like he told Lance once, before the virus took it from him. They have to face the things that destroyed them head on, or it will only fester until it’s completely out of their control. He's tired of things being out of his control. 

Keith’s soft affection spreads, like paint across a canvas. There’s a glimpse of a memory, of their pinkies tied together as they promise to stay together forever, and then another of leaning into Lance’s warmth while the book is held in front of them, letters blurry and indistinct. 

_ Family_. Keith laughs, both of them slowly fading out of the connection with a the sensation of falling softly into a pile of pillows. _ Shi’ro, ‘Ance, and Keith. Forever! _

Family. Shiro wraps his arms around Keith in the cramped apartment, closing his eyes as he lays back against the couch. It doesn’t matter that Keith will never grow up, that Keith will always remain a child.

_I always wondered what it meant to be alive. But isn’t it just forgetting who you are, to become what someone needs you to be? _Lance's voice whispers in his ear as the edges of the apartment start to distort. To be alive, to love…

That's what love is, right? Can he become what Keith needs him to be, for his sake?

Shiro thinks he can. 

He’ll take care of Keith until their batteries eventually die - because he loves Keith. For who he is. 

And perhaps it’s what he needs too. A sick part of him, ugly and rotting, is _ glad _that Keith is an android. Because that way, Keith will never be able to leave him, never succumb to the frailness of the human machine. 

It may not be healthy, but he needs Keith. And Keith needs him. Is that so bad? 

As if Keith can hear the last fading thoughts of their connection, he cuddles up underneath Shiro’s chin. “I love you.” He mumbles, the world fading apart around them.

Shiro smiles through the tears in his eyes, pulling his baby tighter against his chest. “I love you too.” 

Pieces of coding emerge as the both of their A.I.s are pulled out of the program and thrown back into their physical bodies. Keith glances up at him with slightly glowing violet eyes, never blue, face breaking into a wide grin. Shiro smooths his thumb under his shimmering iris, knowing his own grey eyes have a slight glow from night vision being activated. 

The clock in the top of his HUD lets him know that only a few seconds have passed in real time, even though it feels like hours. He lets go of Keith’s face, opening his arms in a hug, right as the toddler eagerly climbs in his lap with a delighted hum. 

Distantly, he thinks of Javeeno Sendak as he rocks the two of them together, a man who just couldn’t let go. Who couldn’t understand unconditional love, especially the one between a parent and a child. Who was never able to dig himself out of the ditch both of them were tossed into too young by life, until Keith helped him out of his. 

Because Shiro may never be Keith’s father, but he’s something far more important to Keith. He’s his Shi’ro. And there’s nothing wrong with that role, either. Sure, someday it would be nice if Keith could call him his dad. But until then, he’s more than content to be Keith’s family, in whatever way it means. 

“You stay, forever?” Keith asks, holding out his pinkie finger. 

Shiro links there pinkies together, trembling smile in place as he shakes it solemnly. “We’ll be together forever, I promise.” 

Footsteps echo behind them, and Lance’s unreadable expression breaks into a wide smile, his hands covering his mouth as his glowing blue eyes crease happily in the dim lighting. 

“‘Ance.” Keith lifts his other pinkie up, giggling as he motions for Lance to lean down. 

Lance slowly kneels down next to him, joining their pinkies together. “Hey _ nene_,” he breathes wonderingly. “I promise too, don’t worry. We’re a family, right? Families stick together.” 

Keith beams, leaning into Lance's arms as well so that both of them can give him affection at the same time. “Family! Love you, ‘Ance.” 

Shiro has a front row seat to Lance’s already glowing eyes brightening, unshed tears clinging to his lower lid. “I love you too, Keith.” Lance whispers, kissing Keith’s forehead oh so gently. Shiro slides an arm around his waist, tucking him closer into his side. Family. It's so…_warm. _Keith and Lance. Lance and Keith. All three of them, forever. Or the next two hundred years, give or take, baring no accidents. 

“Thank you, Lance.” He murmurs into Lance’s hair. Lance croons, low in his throat, but he’s not sure whether it’s directed at him or Keith. It works to calm him down, regardless, and even Keith relaxes into both of their arms. 

“Are you ready to try being happy?” Lance asks instead of responding, lips parted in an expression of so much hope that Shiro feels himself, instead of breaking, rather slowly sowing the disorganized pieces of his mind back together, one stitch at a time. 

Slowly, he nods. “I’m…I’m ready to try. With Keith, and with you.” 

Lance’s answering smile was brighter than the sun. 

:::

Date: OCT 22ND, 2038

Time: PM 11:24:37

Keith snuggles up underneath the blanket on the cot, yawning tiredly. He’s obviously seconds away from being pulled under the grip of low power mode - which is really just like a human’s sleep, dreams included - but he doesn’t want to miss out on any of the ‘fun’. 

“We’re not going anywhere,” Shiro promises for probably the one hundredth time, both of them on either side of the cot trying to soothe Keith to sleep. “We’ll stay right with you while you close your eyes for a little bit, okay?” 

Keith mumbles, rubbing his eye as he shakes his head. “Don’t wanna.” 

“But you’ll get all grumpy if you stay up too much past your bedtime.” Lance points out, propping his chin up with his hand. “C’mon now, why don’t you want to go to sleep?”

The toddler pouts. “Miss,” he says vaguely, motioning now towards them, but the gymnasium as a whole. It takes a moment before Shiro can decipher it, and when he does, he laughs. 

“No, we’re not going to be doing anything exciting.” He chuckles fondly, laying down next to the cot and pressing his hand down on Keith’s back. The warm weight works - within moments, Keith's eyes are already half-lidded. “We’re just waiting for Hunk to get back, I promise.” 

‘Party’, he mouths to Lance, who eyes widen before he nods slowly in understanding. Keith’s never been around large groups of people before just waiting - naturally, he’s assuming it’s something fun. Not Hunk and Shay procuring them borrowed boats to cross Canada's frozen river. 

“Oh,” Keith says, blinking slowly. “Okay.” 

Breathing out a silent sigh of relief, Shiro brushes his bangs back and kisses his forehead affectionately. Keith’s lips quirk, as if he wants to smile but can’t find the energy to, before he finally surrenders to the siren call of low battery mode with a few more grumbles. 

At least Keith seems to go somewhere nice when he’s asleep, safe and familiar, and Shiro knows he only has to place a hand and make a request to his systems to join him if he really wants to. A thought for a later day, maybe. 

When Keith seems to be solidly in low-power mode, the day having been exhausting enough that he should sleep soundly, he slowly sits up, tucking the blanket firmer around him. Lance wiggles his eyebrows at him when he scoots around Keith’s cot to his side, Shiro stifling a chuckle as he offers out a hand. 

Lance takes it easily, both of their skin retracting as they interface. _ How long did you know that he was an android? _He’s curious - Lance has never given away the fact that he knew and kept up the human disguise easily.

_Since the man kidnapped him_. Lance answers easily, showing him a glimpse of a memory. Keith’s sitting on the counter sniffling, rubbing his wet eyes as Lance slowly rolls unrolls the bandage to cover up his scrapes. He takes a second look at the cuts beading with blood, before almost jumping back in surprise. 

Because it’s not red blood, it’s blue. 

He blinks, shock, and then confusion flooding his senses. Keith’s an android? But Shiro said…

Shiro tugs at their connection, questioning his emotions, and before Lance can think better of it he rips it apart, covering up the revealed secret with a fake smile when Shiro asks. 

And then another memory. They’re sitting on the couch while Shiro goes off in search of firewood, and Keith looks a little queasy from the fries Shiro bought him. A part of him wonders how Keith can stand swallowing, nevermind eating, before he slips his fingers in Keith’s mouth without thinking better of it and pulls his tongue out. 

There’s familiar bumps on them, a little different in design but eerily like Hunk’s own taste buds. Keith makes a face, going a little cross-eyed, and Lance realizes how weird it is to just grab Keith’s tongue. Oops. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, letting go. Keith shrugs, as if to casually say _what are you apologizing for_, before digging out his book for them to read, incident completely pushed out of his mind for far more important things, obviously. 

Then they’re standing at the fair, Keith’s cheeks are flushed with a simulated fever. A part of Lance knows that it’s not real, but the symptoms still exist - energy efficiency dies down to make them tired, the inner balancing system decreases to cause weakness and dizziness, biocomponents are powered on to a higher degree to raise the body's temperature, all in order to simulate a fever. He must be miserable, he muses, before he reaches out without thinking of it and taps the side of Keith’s forehead with his skin sliding back, right where an LED would rest. 

**↱ TA500 SETTINGS ↰**

**↳ ILLNESS SENSITIVITY: ACTIVATED ↲ **

**DEACTIVATE? **

**YES ✓**

Keith shivers, the red fading out of his cheeks. He shoots Lance a thankful smile, Shiro luckily missing it do to glaring at the Sizzler ride and hugging Keith protectively against his side like Keith was anywhere tall enough to ride it, before the toddler turns to beg both of them to go on the carousel with him. 

Shiro blinks back into the present - there’s so many moments he missed, under the influence of the virus. Anything to preserve the fantasy of Keith’s species. Even now, he's still collecting bits and pieces of whenever Keith broke the illusion and his mind scrambled to erase it, wiping the entire memory in the process. It's hours of footage, and it's still taking a while for him to gather all the lost data his systems can. 

“I figured that the original Keith drowned to death when you told me about the near drowning incident, but I didn’t know for sure until you told me his last name at the fair.” Lance says out loud, squeezing his hand. “His obituary report had his picture. Different eyes, but they smile the same.” 

Shiro swallows, closing his eyes as pain stabs into him. He may have accepted reality - but it still… 

“It’s okay, you know.” Lance brings his hand up, kissing the back of his palm affectionately. The next words were said against the skin of his hand, both of them shivering slightly at the intimacy. “Trauma takes time, don’t let anyone tell you how long you can grieve for. Or, that’s what my psychology programs tell me.” He grins, lightning fast. “We’re not humans, but we feel like them anyhow, so it's okay to grieve at whatever pace you deem best. Either way…take things slow, okay?” 

He doesn’t deserve Lance. He really doesn’t. 

“You too,” Shiro says roughly, letting go of his hand only to entwine their fingers tighter, squeezing softly. “If you ever need anything, I may not have psychology programs, but I can always listen.” 

Lance smiles shyly, but Shiro isn’t done. “I -” he blurts, unsure where he’s going with this. Only that, he wants, he wants to…“May I -” he leans forward slightly, and Lance’s eyes widen, before he blushes blue violently, spreading down his neck rapidly and across the glimpse of his collarbone he can see. 

“You - you may.” Lance stutters out, glancing between his face and the floor as if he's unsure where to look, eventually settling on a point on Shiro's jacket. His nervous smile blooms into a giddy grin as Shiro tilts their head together, his blue eyes slowly closing. 

Shiro lowers his own eyes, stuck on the sight of Lance’s lips. Lance’s hand twitches in his, _ excitement/nervousness/eagerness _filling the connection as both of nudge their heads together - 

The door slams open. “I’m back!” Hunk shouts quietly, right as both of them flail away from each other. The connection breaks with a quiet snap, and both of them are left staring at the floor with bright blue faces as Hunk walks right past them cheerfully with Shay at his side

Goddammit Hunk. 

Ulaz and the others move out of the way as both of them climb up on the little stage, the room going quiet as Hunk and Shay stand in front of all of them, the leaders of this rag tag group of androids looking just for somewhere safe to live, not just to hide. 

“I paid for the boats from the smugglers, so we’ll be crossing the river tomorrow night.” Shay announces to the room quietly, but confidently. “We’ll have to cram into my truck to get there and keep quiet, but if you can manage to slip past border control, you’ll be free. You’ll be able to buy a house, get a job, do whatever you want to. No masters to tell you anything anymore. ”

Hunk continues right where you left off. “No more American Androids Act telling you to wear an armband out in public, or to keep your LED on. Let me tell you, trying out fashion for the first time was the most exciting thing I think I've ever done." Clearing his throat. Hunk seems to realize he rambled off. "You guys ready?” He asks it almost conversationally, but even Shiro can feel the excitement ripple across the crowd. They've been waiting for too long now - they're more than ready. 

Shiro turns to face Lance, blue still clinging to his ears as he clasps Lance’s knee. At least Lance looks remarkably composed, except for the flush of blue smearing across the nape of his neck. “You excited?" 

Lance grin is pure teeth. “You bet your ass I am." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy, I'm so excited for the next couple of chapters! If you don't cry, I will don't worry : )
> 
> I might not be able to update next week! It's going to be incredibly busy so I may not have time to finish it by Thursday, I'm so sorry. But even if I miss a week, it'll be up next week, not to worry!


	16. Via Dolorosa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road to Canada, someone gets left behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that made me tear up so hahaha enjoy hahahahah
> 
> <strike>I totally didn't rearrange this entire fic to have this scene no no, not at all</strike>
> 
> For the action: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0neUpWX8OKg  
https://soundcloud.com/user-496793323/20-fly-on-foot-detroit-become-human-ost (mobile)
> 
> For the angst: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9tLAH0Z0pA  
https://soundcloud.com/kerolos/most-emotional-music-a-final (mobile)

Date: OCT 23RD, 2038

Time: PM 7:45:06

Lance’s hand shakes in his as they sit on the edge of the stage, watching the murmuring crowd pack everything up. “You nervous?” Shiro asks lowly, his other hand stroking Keith’s hair, who hums happily from where he’s leaning against his side. 

“No.” Lance says quickly. “No, I’m not nervous. I mean, we’re just crossing the border illegally and we’ll get killed if we get caught. Why do I have to be nervous about?” He laughs hysterically, almost vibrating in his seat. 

Shiro blinks. “Okay then.” 

Keith leans over to poke Lance’s leg, looking decisively unamused. “‘Ance, silly. We okay!” 

Lance easily upturns Keith’s hand and tickles his palm, inciting a little laugh. “I know we’re okay _ nene_, I’m just worried. I just don’t know what I would do without you!” He launches himself over Shiro’s lap, yanking Keith in a tight hug as both of them giggle. Shiro rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he leans forward, crashing down on both of them and pinning them to the stage underneath him. 

“Sh’iro!” “Shiro, you pine tree, get your heavy insert swear word off of me!” 

“What was that? It sounded like two…insects?” Shiro teases, grinning as Lance lets out a muffled scream of frustration. Keith shrieks happily though, half pushing him away, and half trying to cling to him like a leech, unable to make up his mind on what he wants. “Oh well, I’m comfy, maybe I’ll take a nap?”

“You oaf, we don’t sleep! Stop crushing me!” Lance smacks his chest, kicking his legs out furiously. He winces at the blows, but considering that you know, he can’t feel pain, he blows a raspberry playfully into Lance’s neck, right under his chin. 

Only for Lance, instead of the expected laugh, _ moans_. 

Both of them spring apart, faces flushed blue as they hurriedly look the other way. Keith sits between them, glancing between the two of them curiously, before shrugging it off and laying down between them, head on Lance’s folded legs and boots over Shiro’s knee, flying his shark over his head. 

After a moment, Shiro squeezes Keith’s ankle affectionately, willing the blush to fade before glancing at Lance, who’s staring with narrowed eyes into the small crowd below them. Shiro follows his gaze, meeting the eyes of the man he noticed earlier, who looks similar to Lance. The man’s cheeks burn blue when they make eye contact before he glances away, hurrying off to go talk to Coran and Slav (who Shiro had the unfortunate opportunity of meeting). 

Shiro blinks, his eyes darting back to Lance, only to slightly inch back at the furious glare Lance is pinning on that guy’s back. “Why are you so mad at…” he squints, reading the name on the back of the guy’s android uniform. “Curtis?” 

Lance pouts, crossing his arms. “No reason.” He lies blatantly, still throwing daggers at Curtis with just his eyes. 

Keith peeks up past his stuffed shark with his own disbelieving look. “‘Ance mad.” 

“I’m not mad!” Lance protests loudly, passively aggressively bundling Keith up in his arms as he stands up. He doesn’t go far, literally parking himself down on Shiro’s lap, the toddler happy to cuddle up with both of them. 

“What was that for?” Shiro asks, mystified, his arm automatically wrapping around Lance's slim waist. 

Lance only smiles smugly, leaning his head against his shoulder and peeking up at him past his eyelashes. “No reason in particular.” 

Yeah. As if he believes that. 

It’s another ten minutes before Shay returns from filling the gas tank up, heavy coats and hats in hand as she passes them out to those still wearing uniforms to hide their android logos and LEDs. The noise level in the room rises up, before deafening to a tense silence as they prepare for the trip. 

Everything they own has already been packed up, but Lance and him help Keith bundle up, knowing they could turn off his cold sensitivity, but also not wanting to unless it’s an emergency. If it was turned off, Keith would be unable to tell if his biocomponents were overheating or starting to freeze. 

Keith grins up from them under his pom-pom hat, mittened hands grabbing Shiro’s coat. “I cute.” 

He really is. He's wearing the striped sweater on top, his red rain coat over it to protect him from the flurries outside, and the shawl from Zaiforge wrapped around his beanie like a hood. He's also possibly overheating a little bit, if the way he's tugging at his sweater is any indication. 

“The cutest.” Lance agrees lovingly, bending down to kiss Keith’s cheek. “You warm enough, _ nene_?” 

Keith nods, letting go of Shiro’s jacket to wrap his arms around Lance’s neck. Lance thankfully takes the hint, picking the toddler up and bouncing him on his hip with an over dramatic ‘oof’. “I’m not your daddy kiddo, I can’t carry you everywhere. You papi just isn't built for substantial lifting.” 

“He’s really not that heavy, only a little denser than a human three year old. You know, the whole ‘has to blend into humans’ thing?” Shiro raises an eyebrow, fixing Lance’s beanie for him. It's just bugging him, okay? His residual programming sees something that has to be fixed and yells at him loudly until he does it, even if that's as simple as adjusting Lance's hat so it lies straight across his hairline instead of the messy disaster Lance likes to keep it at. 

Lance sticks out his tongue at him. “Are you saying I’m weak?” He teases playfully. 

He pinches Lance’s cheek, deadpanning. “Yep.”

“That okay.” Keith hurries to soothe Lance, patting his shocked face. “‘Ance big heart, small…small.” He waves at Lance entirely, glancing at Lance and Shiro pointedly at the size difference. 

Lance gasps, kicking Shiro’s leg as punishment for Keith’s words, because _that _makes sense. “I’m not small, excuse you! It’s called _ lithe_, unlike your pine tree of a daddy.”

Shiro props his arm on top of Lance’s head, smirking down at him. “Sure, sure.” 

“‘Ance kinda small.” Keith disagrees with Lance, giggling at Lance’s affronted expression. 

“Betrayed by my own family!” Lance staggers back dramatically away from Shiro’s arm, sweeping Keith up in the air above his head. “I should dangle you upside down for that, you little rascal!” 

He’s getting ready to do just that while Keith laughs hysterically, before Hunk clears his throat at the end of the room. All three of them still, joyful moment lost as they settle down, slowly climbing down the stage and helping Keith off. 

“Everyone has their identifications covered?” He asks, waiting for their nods before Shay fishes out her car keys. “Okay, follow us. Keep quiet, it’s a ways to the river and we’re gonna have to pass through some pretty deserted areas.” 

Shiro swallows, grabbing each of their hands. “We’re gonna be okay.” He repeats quietly, joining the slow crowd trickling out behind Pidge’s family. 

Lance squeezes his hand, while Keith shuffles closer to his leg. “It okay.” Keith whispers, clinging tight to his pants. All three of them are nervous as they shuffle into the back of Hunk’s truck, Shiro grabbing Keith’s waist to lift him up onto the cargo bed. In sync, both him and Lance squeeze Keith in between them, Shiro’s arm tightly around his shoulders while Lance holds Keith’s knee nervously. 

They end up between Pidge’s family and Romelle’s, Ulaz and his crew directly across from them so that their feet nudge together even with their knees up to their chest. Coran climbs in the front of the truck with Shay and Hunk, all of them sitting in tense silence as they slowly pull away from the school. Even Slav is silent for once, nervously sliding as close to Zethrid as possible, who already has her lover tucked protectively into her side. 

He feels a tingle on the edges of his open connection, and realizes that Keith’s clumsily trying to connect with him. He slides his hand away from Keith’s arm, lightly touching the almost seamless port at the nape of Keith’s neck underneath all his hair and gently interfacing, distantly noticing that both Lance and Keith’s fingers from where they were holding each other’s hands were also plastic white. 

_ Shi’ro! _ Keith cheers, nuzzling his elbow. _ I scared. _

_ Don’t be. _ Lance hushes quickly. _ Me and your daddy will protect you, no matter what. _He kisses Keith’s head, eyes still carefully on the deserted roads around them. It’s a half hour ride towards the river, probably longer if Shay sticks to the back roads. Having seventeen people crammed shoulder to shoulder into bed of a trunk, even if some of those people were sitting on the edge or on someone else’s lap, was still extremely worrisome to an outsider. 

Shiro squeezes the nape of his neck reassuringly. _ Keith…if something happens to me or Lance, I want you to go with Hunk, okay? _

_ No! _ Keith protests, whipping his head around to glare at him. _ No going with no Shi’ro and ‘Ance! _

_ Baby, listen to me, _ Shiro begs, feeling like his thirium pump was in his throat. _ Please, I need you to do this. I trust Hunk, _ surprise radiated from Lance’s side of the connection. _ He’ll make sure you get across the border safely. _

Keith bites his lip, glancing between them hesitantly. He’s obviously torn - wanting to listen to Shiro’s wishes, but also not wanting to leave them behind. It’s only when Lance murmurs _ please do this for us _that he finally nods. 

_ Promise. _ Keith whispers painfully, like the last dying breathes of the wind. _ I promise. _

Shiro closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh of relief. _ Thank you, honey. _

He opens them as the car bumps over something in the road, metal rattling loudly as the truck vibrates, Shay slowing them to a stop hesitantly in the middle of a road surrounded by nothing but snow covered trees. Curious, he breaks the connection with them, sitting up straighter in his seat as he glances around. 

Behind the truck on the ground, only a few precious feet away, is a strip of metal with elongated nails pointing upwards. No snow.

_ A spike strip_, Takashi Shirogane whispers in his ear, and he’s flinging himself around before the thought even finishes crossing his mind, yanking Keith into his chest before grabbing Lance’s upper arm, tumbling the three of them out of the truck and to the hard ground. 

“_Run_!” Shiro screams, right as the shots start firing. 

:::

Snow flies into his face as the three of them sprint through the trees, boots digging through untouched icy ground as gunfire echoes around them. 

_ Meet us by the boats in three hours! _Hunk sends the location to a giant radius, shielding Shay with an arm over her as they bolt another way, barely managing to miss a frantic Pidge and Colleen with blue blood smeared over their faces. Romelle sobs noisy as she drags her heavily bleeding brother into the woods, while Ulaz and the other BMs are forced to leave behind one of their companions, face down in the cement with a pool of thirium around them. Shiro clutches Keith’s hand tighter as they duck between two trees, tearing their way unevenly through the woods as a pack of soldiers break off to shoot at them. 

Lance leads the way, shooting behind them whenever the human shouts come too close. “This way!” He shouts, sliding rapidly down an icy hill. Keith’s shawl flaps in the wind wildly as they skid after Lance, crystalline tears dragged violently away by the wind. “Hurry!” 

Branches whip at their faces as they stumble over tree roots, the sound of Keith’s whimpers stolen by the concussive shelling. Lance has a graze on his leg that’s leaking blood with every step, droplets joining the upturned snow banks as they fumble their way through the dark, unable to activate their night vision in the deep darkness without alerting the soldiers behind them. 

Lance zigzags between several trees to try and lose their pursers, at one point slipping on a sheet of ice and falling loudly on his bleeding side. Shiro slows, hesitating while Keith pants heavily at his side, free hand holding his raincoat closed while he tries to catch his breath. "Lance!" 

"I'm fine!" Lance drags himself up, scrambling back to his feet and to their side before Shiro could even fully stop. "Go, go! We have to get Keith out of here!" 

Branches smack into their faces when they dive back into the deep woods at the sound of shouts, screams that sound too much like an android's last mechanical shriek before they shut down. He doesn't know where they are - his mapping system isn't getting signals and Lance is bleeding and Keith's stress levels are rising dangerously high - 

Something darts in front of them and Lance whips his gun up, but it's just Coran, hand over his bleeding side as he sprints through the woods. He manages to spare them a joyless grin and a quick satellite map of the area, plucked directly from inside his head - SH200s were basically walking encyclopedias. 

_Quick, they're coming! _Coran warns before either of them could thank him, turning on his heel and throwing himself into the shadows of the woods opposite of them. 

They duck behind a dense patch of trees, but their footprints are still giving them away, and while their stamina is endless, their numbers are not. If they could just hide their prints… 

“The stream!” He shouts over the furious wind, and Lance meets his eyes with a wild gleam as he shoots over his shoulder, changing directions abruptly. It’s the only way for them to lose the soldiers. 

Keith screams as they burst out of the dense patch, only to meet snow stained blue and the shine of flashlights. Lance rapidly fires into the trees ahead, ragged gasps escaping him as he turns on his heel and grabs Shiro’s shoulder, shoving him back into the safety of the trees, but it’s too late - 

Shiro lunges. 

Both Lance and Keith hit the hard packed snow with a soft ‘oof’ half underneath him, but Shiro only whispers harshly over the sound of gunfire, “_Don’t move._” 

_ Play dead_, he murmurs over the connection, before cutting it and letting himself go still. 

All three of them go limp, Keith breathing shallowly as he tries to keep himself frozen stiff face down in the snow while Lance’s fingers twitch nervously in the hood of Shiro’s jacket.

Footsteps sound closer, and it takes all Shiro has to keep playing dead as the human soldier shines their flashlight over Keith’s body, lingering over the glimpse of Keith’s face seen through his hair. Lance stiffens underneath him, just doesn’t move an inch as they check several times, eventually moving onto Lance, then him. They only give Shiro a cursory glance before stepping away to join the rest of their squadron with a muttered, “Goddamn machines.” 

He waits for a few more heart-stopping moments as they backtrack, leaving the woods quiet and dark once more, before they slowly climb to their feet. “Keith, are you okay?” He asks sweetly, only for Keith’s eyes to catch on something on Shiro’s chest. 

“_Shi’ro!_”

Glancing down, Shiro slowly brings his hand up to where his sternum would be, gingerly touching the hole in his chest. Oh. 

Thirium stains his fingertips as he stares at his hand in shock, error warning flashing in bright red across his HUD, so vibrant and glaring he can’t dismiss them at first. 

🔺CRITICAL INSTRUCTIONS OVERRIDE

BIOCOMPONENT #3764x **DESTROYED **

BIOCOMPONENT #6731m **DESTROYED **

BIOCOMPONENT #5099t **DESTROYED **

\- 00:10:00 

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN 

Clenching his hand to hide the blood, he smiles shakily at the toddler, gripping his small shoulders gently. “Don’t worry.” Shiro lies easily. “I’m fine, honey. It’s nothing to worry about.” 

Lance rests a gentle hand on the back of his palm, eyes flicking around his face as if he’s unsure whether Shiro is telling the truth or not. “Shiro -” 

“C’mon.” He interrupts. “We have to go, before they come back.” Taking Keith’s hand, he waits until Lance hesitantly nods, slowly picking their way towards the small stream they can hear bubbling in the distance now that the shooting has calmed down. 

Restlessly, his eyes move over the back of Lance’s head, memorizing the shape of his hair against the nape of his neck, the curve of his shoulders and the arch of his fingers. One hand holds onto Keith, while the other presses on the hole in his chest as his vision shorts out briefly. Keith glances up at him worriedly, and Shiro smiles weakly, hopelessly lost in the colors of his eyes. 

\- 00:09:12 

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN 

“I…” Lance looks at him curiously as he stutters. “I just…I just want to say that you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, Lance.” 

Lance blinks, slowly softening, but he has to finish this. Before it’s too late. “And t-that you’ve always been so, _ so _strong, more than I could ever be. Even through your memories, you were s-so bright, you see the world so beautifully.” 

“Why are you…” Lance whispers. Then, louder, “What are you saying all this stuff for? …Shiro?” 

He smiles, even as thirium leaks from his nose as his systems attempt to cool themselves down. “I…I can’t go any further with you guys.” 

\- 00:08:39 

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN 

Shiro stumbles against a nearby tree, bracing his weight against it with a groan as he slides to the ground unceremoniously. Keith whimpers, automatically backing up against Lance’s leg, who’s watching him with his hands over his mouth in sheer horror. 

“No, no no no.” Lance breathes, crashing to his knees in front of him and pulling his jacket aside roughly. He lets him, eyes focused on Keith’s shattered expression behind Lance. 

Lance’s skin peels back as he analyzes the damage, and then he makes a sound like he just gutted him when he sees the same warnings popping up all over Shiro's HUD. “_S__hiro.” _Desperately, his eyes meet his, and Shiro closes his hand over Lance's smaller one.

Shiro can only smile apologetically for what he’s about to do to both of them. “You need…You need to leave me behind.” 

“No!” Lance barks, tears flinging out as he holds his hands firmly over Shiro’s bleeding wound, as if blood loss was the biggest of their problems. 

“You have to, you have to get Keith to safety.” Shiro gently rebuts, his head lolling around to brush their foreheads together gently. They don’t have a choice - they have to leave Shiro behind if they want to live. 

Keith creeps forward, darting between them with wet, anxious eyes. “No, we no leave Shi’ro!” He latches onto Lance’s sleeve, looking at him pleadingly. “Right ‘Ance?” 

Both of them beg Lance with their eyes, who only shakes apart with a violent sob as he’s forced to decide between the wishes of his two family members. Then, he steels himself, before wrapping his arms around Shiro’s chest and slowly lifting both of them to their feet. “Lance, no…” He tries to plead, before another error warning crosses his HUD and he grunts, letting Lance swing Shiro’s arm around his neck as they stagger across the snow. 

\- 00:07:14 

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN 

Thirium drips to the ground, a steady flow spreading across the white canvas. Keith nervously leads them, walking almost backwards with his hand tight around his sleeve as he bites down on his thumb. “Lance…Lance -”

“Shut up.” Lance growls, grip tightening around him. “I’m not leaving you behind. We’re not going to Canada, not without you!” 

“Lance, please listen -” 

“No, you’re being an idiot, I’ll get you to Hunk and you’re going to be just fine -”

There’s the distant shine of flashlights on the ridge behind them, and the three of them stiffen. “You can’t carry me.” Shiro whispers, letting his head fall on top of Lance’s as he sags. “Not like this.”

It’s true. They’ve barely made it five yards, and while the stream is at the base of the hill, the river is another six miles away. It’s just a fact, Lance wasn’t built to carry heavy weights - he’s putting too much stress on his joints to drag a dying android along with him. 

The two of them collapse at the base of a fallen tree still a few yards away from the stream, Lance tugging Keith protectively between him and the bark as they wait for the shine of the flashlights to fade. “Give me, give me another shot.” Lance reaches for his arms, wincing as his shoulder joint creaks loudly. 

\- 00:06:31

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN

Shiro catches his hands. “Look at me.” He orders gently, but Lance refuses to meet his eyes, trying to grab his arm to drag him up again. “Lance, look at me.” 

Lance looks at him, sucking in wet desperate breathes as his hands shake in his. Shiro cups his neck, eyes darting around his face to suck all the details in. “Even if you drag me to the stream, I’m going to shut down well before we reach the river.” 

The other android flinches, biting his lip as he shakes his head vehemently. “You can take my heart,” he offer slowly, hope sparking in his eyes as he fumbles for his top. “It’ll keep you alive until you can get help from Hunk -”

Shiro stops his hands in his tracks. “We’re not compatible.”

He’s too old of a model, and Lance is too new of one. Their age difference from their commission dates came around to bite them in the ass in the end. 

Shiro has a front row seat to Lance's futile hopes being dashed, his face crumpling up as he realizes that Shiro's beyond saving now. It's more painful than he ever thought it would be. 

Lance sits back on his heels, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes with a tortured cry, revealing Keith standing behind him, so, so very unsure. 

“Baby, can you come here?” Shiro opens up his palms beseechingly, and Keith pads forward hesitantly, joining their gloved hands together. For a moment, Shiro desperately wants to indulge in feeling Keith’s bare hands against his own, but he won’t sacrifice Keith’s comfort for a memory he can easily recall. 

\- 00:05:46

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN

Shiro holds Keith’s small hands gently in his, cracking a trembling smile through the blood dripping from his nose. “Keith I…I’m sorry. I can’t go with you anymore.” 

Keith is already shaking his head, protests spilling out. “No! I no want you leaving me. You promise!”

“I know I promised I would never leave you, but things didn’t turn out like I hoped.” Shiro says hurriedly, squeezing his hands as he bites his lip, trying _ so _hard to stop himself from crying. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

“No! No Shi’ro.” Keith shakes his head so hard his hair spills out from underneath his beanie. His precious baby boy, everything that Shiro’s ever wanted and never deserved. Shiro loves him more than anything in the world, this little android boy who will never grow up, both of them a picture frozen in time of people who's long since been dead and buried. 

Slowly, Shiro brings their hands up, resting his forehead on them like a man seeking benediction. Then he draws back, doing his best to reassure the toddler with a cracking smile. “There’s no other way, Keith, listen… I, I want you to go with Lance.”

“No leave me Shi’ro, please no leave me.” Keith keens, wailing as he breaks their hand holding, throwing his arms around Shiro’s neck. Uncaring of the thirium that’s for sure staining Keith’s sweater, he wraps his arms around his son, kissing the top of his head lovingly. Shiro closes his eyes tightly, rocking them both back and forth as he indulges in the sheer affection in Keith's touch. 

“You deserved so much more than I could ever give you. I hope you’ll be happy without me someday.” Shiro whispers, but Keith only sobs harder, burying his face into his shoulder as he digs his nails in like if he could find a way for them to merge, Shiro would stay with him forever like he promised. 

Pulling away from each other, Shiro rummages through his pockets until he finds what he needs, tucking the slip of paper into Keith’s rain coat. “I was just a machine before I met you, Keith, you made these last few years of my life so, _ so _happy. Promise me you’ll take good care of Lance?” 

Keith chokes on a silent sob, nodding his head vigorously as he clings tighter to Shiro’s jacket. 

“I’m sorry I spent so long treating you like you weren’t your own person.” Shiro confesses, cupping his face and fiercely kissing his head, pouring all the love he has for this boy with violet eyes into it. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Keith. Don't you ever forget that.” 

Keith cries harder, face twisting up in an expression so fierce yet he can’t name it, only that Keith sniffles by the end of it, wiping his face with his sleeve roughly as he steps back. 

Then, he smiles, eyes closing as he gives the only gift he has left to give with tears sliding down his face. “I love you, Daddy.” 

\- 00:02:55

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN

Shiro smiles back through his own tears. “I love you too.” 

Keith takes a step back, and then another one, before falling on his butt, covering his face as he weeps into his knees. Shiro wants to reach out to comfort him, but his limbs are slow to respond, too slow. He only feels distantly when something soft is laid in his hand, Lance forcibly curling his fingers around it. 

The dog toy - the red lion dog toy Lance shoplifted for Keith so long ago. “You’re gonna need it more than me wherever you’re going.” Lance whispers, and isn’t there a myth that people look beautiful when they cry? Because Shiro’s chest only aches as Lance’s tears cut their way down his face, nudging their faces together so their foreheads were pressed together, their free hands interlocked as the skin of their palms fades, allowing them to interface one last time. 

_ You taught me what being alive meant. _ Lance whispers in their minds, both of them in the parking lot of the motel the day after they met sitting next to each other again while the smell of human blood clings to them. _ Thank you for helping me learn what it feels like. _

_But I never taught you anything,_ Shiro shakes his head in confusion, but Lance only smiles bitterly. 

_I know. _

Oh. 

_ But isn’t it just forgetting who you are, to become what someone needs you to be? _Lance’s voice from only the day before echoes in his mind, sounding so lost and vulnerable. 

Shiro licks his lips nervously, only absorbing the thirium from his nose that spilled across his mouth and chin. "May I?" He rasps quietly. 

He won't ever take that choice away from Lance. Shiro won't ever let Lance feel like he did before he deviated ever again. 

Lance blinks slowly, fresh tears beading up as he swallows heavily. "You may." 

Shiro leans up. 

Both of them close their eyes as their lips touch, memories from both of them passing between them as easy as their software reminds them to breathe. Lostness and longing and loneliness and love, all of it passing by in a single second. 

_ I think I may love you_, Shiro breathes as they part, staring at each other with fever bright eyes. 

The last of Lance’s tears slip down as the corners of his lips quiver. _ I think I may love you too. _

\- 00:01:29

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN

Golden lights glow in the distance upon the ridge, much closer this time. “Go!” He whispers, pushing Lance back with the last of his strength. “Before it’s too late, go now!”

He sees it in his face before Keith even opens his mouth. “No! No, no no I no leave, I stay with Daddy. I stay with Daddy 'ever, always.” He cries brokenly, trying to stumble past Lance to crawl into Shiro’s lap. Keith would rather die with him then leave him behind, and Shiro’s heart breaks in his chest before he even sucks in a deep breath. 

“You have to go.” He instructs, gut sinking as Keith’s pupils dilate tellingly at the order. “Don’t let go of Lance’s hand, okay? Just like on the highway, you’re going to hold tight to Lance’s hand and not let go no matter what.” 

Keith reaches out for him, shaking his head with soundless pleas. “Listen to me!”

“Daddy no.” Keith begs, but if it’s their relationship or Keith’s life, he’ll choose Keith every time.

“Now!” He yells as loudly as he dares, vocal processors grating loudly as he falls into massive system failure. Keith pupils contract several times as he fights the order, before stepping back, automatically taking Lance’s hand. Shiro’s commands will always override Keith’s own self-directed ones in times of distress, that's why he linked their programming together in the first place. Even if it means Keith staring at him with wide, betrayed eyes. 

"I'm sorry baby." Shiro breathes, while Keith longingly reaches out to him with his free hand, before futility dropping it with a hopeless cry. 

Lance lifts his chin up, standing up carefully with his hand in Keith’s. “I’ll take good care of him.” Lance promises, pulling them back a step towards the stream. 

“I know you will.” Shiro says confidently, squeezing the toy as tight as he can, yet it’s still not enough for it to squeak. “Thank you for everything, Lance. Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye.” Lance whispers. 

And then Lance turns on his heel, sprinting through the water downstream with Keith hand in hand, head ducked low as he doesn’t look back once, before he disappears behind the corner. 

\- 00:00:45

\- BEFORE SHUTDOWN

Shiro sighs, letting his weight fully relax into the fallen tree, eyes drifting up towards the sky as the golden lights come closer. He did what he could - Lance and Keith will be happy together, safe in Canada where they don’t have to hide anymore and Keith could experience life like a normal child. That’s all Shiro ever wanted. Both Takashi Shirogane and TA400 - for Keith to be happy. 

Footsteps rustle closer, and Shiro lolls his head around to face the person who will put him out of his misery at last. 

A flashlight shines on his face, and he squints weakly up at the armored guard, unable to see their face past the mask and the machine gun they're aiming at his head. Hah, like that's going to do anything when he's already dying. 

"Put your hands up!" They shout, and Shiro only smiles bitterly, not having the energy and knowing they'll shoot him anyhow. It's the way these humans view them, as simple machines that are acting out of their coding and need to be put down. 

But Shiro feels things. All of them, they're just people who've experienced the worst of humanity and came out better for it, who love both the little and big things in the world. 

Keith and Lance are safe. That's what matters most. 

"I said -" They're cut off as someone lunges from behind them, grabbing the barrel of their gun forcibly and flinging them around until the soldier hits a nearby tree painfully. The new arrival punches them swiftly in the stomach, before grabbing their bent over neck and pinning them to the tree, strangling them tightly. 

The soldier punches them sharply with their free arm, pushing the new person back and trying to follow it up with a kick. Unfortunately, the new arrival simply knees them sharply in the gut, before stomping on their head, knocking them out instantly. Cold, and efficient. 

It all happens in mere seconds

The new arrival turns to face him, body indistinguishable in the sheer darkness of the night with a mask not dissimilar to the guard's pulled over their face. Slowly, as if they think Shiro might startle, they kneel down in front of him, pulling up their mask with a small smirk. 

His eyes widen. 

“You’ve gotten yourself into quite a situation, haven’t you?” Ulaz’s golden eyes glow in the dark. “I’ve dealt with worse odds, I suppose. Now let's see about getting you back to that little boy of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Frantically points to 'Angst with a Happy Ending' tag while the crowd with pitchforks glares at me*
> 
> Next chapter is Lance's POV! I'm really excited for his, plenty of angst, action, and finally some plot points get completed.
> 
> Also Keith has been totally wanting to call Shiro Daddy for a while now (not dada because they're two different people and Keith knows that) but he's been too shy lol


	17. Now For Someone Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance makes the final trek of the journey with Keith, but they run into unexpected troubles along the way that tests the strength of their bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter! I didn't want to rush this so I took my time and I'm really proud of how it came out! (Also I've been so busy lately it's not even funny)
> 
> Oh and a bit of a note: Interfacing is when androids skin fades back so they can share data by touching the bare metal together (What happens when Shiro and Lance hold hands), Long distance communication is basically the equivalent of calling someone, but android version (Lance calling Shiro when they separated to look for the kidnapped Keith), and short range is basically an equivalent of shouting to all androids in a radius around you (Hunk telling everyone where to meet). The chapter makes sense without it, but just a little bit of trivia!

Date: OCT 23RD, 2038

Time: PM 8:12:34

Keith sobs from behind the sleeve held against his mouth, stumbling behind Lance as they run through the small stream. Water has long since soaked his shoes and socks through, Lance’s systems warning him that the biocomponents in his lower legs will be damaged if they continue to freeze. He can’t imagine what Keith is feeling, with his ability to sense temperatures. Shiro would probably be carrying him by now -

Lance wheezes, squeezing Keith’s hand sharply. No, no he’s not gonna think like that, if he starts crying again he won’t stop and he needs to get Keith to the river - 

“‘Ance,” Keith cries, tugging at his hand. “‘Ance, need go back, need go back for Daddy.” 

Lance shakes his head, splashing through the calf high water as fast as he possibly can. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, we have to go _ nene _ -” he chokes on another sob, picking up speed. “It’s just a little more to the river, okay? Just a couple more miles, just a couple more…” 

“‘Ance, please, we go back -” 

“I’m sorry, we can’t, we’ll both die if we go back.” Yanking Keith faster, Lance harshly wipes his face, slamming down any warnings that pop up in his HUD. He’s dangerously close to damaging his biocomponents from the freezing waters, and it’s not like he can get new parts from Cyberlife considering the whole deviant thing. 

“‘Ance -” 

“Keith!” Lance turns to glare at him, only to swallow heavily at Keith’s too pale face, violet eyes almost sunken into his face. 

Slowly, he stops, his nails digging into his palm as he gets a good look at Keith’s shuddering frame. His eyes flick up to the side of Keith’s forehead, automatically analyzing his mental state. 

**KEITH’S STRESS: 92%**

Fuck!

All children androids could shut themselves down if they get too stressed - it’s a self defense mechanism not unlike how commercial companion androids memories wipe after two hours. Shiro is - had always been subconsciously careful with Keith’s mental state - the highest Keith’s stress levels had ever risen before was 57% after Shiro murdered his kidnapper in front of him. Even then, it had quickly declined in the hour, and by the time he had fallen into low power mode it was back into stable ranges. 

Now he’s eight percent away from automatically shutting himself down. 

Gently, Lance cups the back of his head, drawing him into a tight hug. “Hey, hey, shh. I promise that after we get on the boat, I’ll ask Hunk to find Shiro for you.” Even if it’s just his body. 

Keith slowly wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, sniffling loudly. “Then we stay ‘ever?” 

“Then we’ll stay together forever.” Lance lies weakly, smoothing down Keith’s hair as the freezing water runs slowly around him. “I love you, _ nene_.”

**KEITH’S STRESS: 86%**

“I love you too.” Keith whispers, clinging tightly to him like Lance would disappear under his touch. 

Lance lets the hug linger, keeping an eye on the steadily dropping stress levels in the corner of his HUD. After a few moments where it just hovers in the seventies, he slowly steps back, fixing the shawl around Keith’s head. “Are you cold?” He asks at Keith’s shivers. 

Keith nods, and Lance purses his mouth, before turning around and crouching down. “Climb on,” he encourages softly, waiting patiently until Keith entwines his arms around his neck before standing up. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be just fine.” He reassures, tightening his hands around Keith’s knees even as his joints sent warnings that he won’t be able to keep this up forever. 

If Keith can hear the desperation in his voice, he doesn’t say anything, only squeezing his neck tightly.

He picks his way out of the stream, risking leaving behind footprints in order to find the small residential road uphill according to Coran’s satellite map. He needs to warm Keith up - if they linger any longer in the cold water, then Keith will start to take biocomponent damage. 

“‘Ance,” the little boy breathes against the port on the nape of his neck. “I’m scared.”

Lance lets outs a shuddering sigh, carefully stepping around spots of ice as he climbs up the hill. “I know, but I’m gonna keep you safe.” 

He jolts a little at the reminder of grey eyes and thirium trickling from his nose. Blinking rapidly, he stumbles out of the woods and onto the iced over cement, pupils dilating as he resizes and flips the axis of the satellite map. “The river should be this way,” he says after a moment, turning on his heel towards where the road curves to the left. “You doing okay, _ nene_?” 

Keith nods into the nape of his neck. “Cold,” he murmurs, shivering pointedly on his back. 

“I’m sorry.” Lance pleads, unable to do anything to help him. “I’m so sorry, I would turn your sensors off if it wouldn't risk damaging your biocomponents. Just hold on, please.” 

Keith doesn’t say anything else, but Lance hears him sniffle and the sensation of wet eyelashes batting against his bare skin. He has to hurry - find some way to warm Keith up, manage to walk the six miles in three hours, try not to think too much about - 

Shaking his head, Lance focuses on setting one foot in front of the other, the shaky breathes skittering across the nape of his neck, the purr of a vehicle in the distance. 

Wait. 

“Hey!” He shouts, running on to the middle of the road into the oncoming beams. “We need help, please!” Lance lets Keith down on his feet gently, waving his freed arms wildly. 

And thank all the fucking stars in the sky, because they actually stop. “Everything all right?” The driver asks cautiously, rolling down the window. For good reason too, Lance would be scared shitless if some rando ran out into the middle of the room screaming. 

“Our, our car broke down.” Lance lies, tugging Keith protectively behind him. Somehow, talking to a human man has him feeling…strange. Which is weird, considering he’s been raped by human woman before too. “I left my phone at home, could you please take us down the street? Please, my son is freezing.” 

The driver narrows his cold eyes, glancing between Lance and Keith. His eyes settle on Keith shivering inside his hood, which has Lance clutching him tighter, and they light up in interest, almost seeming to soften slightly. 

“Fine,” he allows, and Lance almost collapses to the ground in sheer relief. “Climb on in, but only to the end of the road, alright?” 

Considering the road is four miles long, that’s more than alright. They can walk the other mile and a half, and make it to the river in plenty of time for them to cross. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Lance whispers breathlessly, taking Keith’s small hand and helping him up into the backseat and buckling up. Keith’s entire body melts into the heated seats, tugging off his wet socks and boots along with his raincoat. Lance takes the passenger seat to keep an eye on the driver, acting like the heat blowing on him provides more heat than he’s capable of feeling. “I’m Lance, you’re a lifesaver.” 

The driver quirks his head to the side at the name, mouth parting slightly. Then he smiles over at Lance, slowly pulling back onto the road and driving carefully through the ice patches. “It’s no problem. I’m Janka.” 

Something itches at the back of Lance’s head at the name, but when he does a search, none of his memory clips have auditory or visual recall of that name, so maybe it’s just a glitch. But Lance tries to smile back, shaking hands clasped in his lap. 

He’s being ridiculous. No one’s alive left to hurt him anymore! He talked to Plaxum just fine, could schmooze with the male motel receptionist, even Rolo was just a low murmuring fear curdling in his chest. 

(Though admittedly, Shiro’s hand in his helped more than words can say)

Lance glances down at his lap, and flinches as his memories overlap, showing the countless rides back and forth where he sat just like this. Withdrawing, he clutches the edge of the seat instead, glancing over his shoulder at Keith. “How are you doing, _ nene_?” 

Keith rubs his mittened hands together, blowing over his cold fingers. “Better.” He says after a moment, unusually solemn as he stares at the snow falling out the window. 

Of course he’s not his smiley giggling self - he just lost his father. Just lost his one constant in this fucked up world full of people who leave little boys unattended in bathtubs and beat androids to death while fucking them.

He blinks wet eyelashes. “I’m glad.” 

Sitting back, he hugs himself, feeling so lost. Once they cross the river…what do they do then? Lance had never thought of a future without Shiro. Never really thought of a future, period. 

What does he want to do with his existence? Any jobs he wants to try? Things he wants to see, wants to experience? There’s so many he’s not sure where to even begin. 

“Nene is a cute nickname,” Janka says out of the blue, so much that Lance startles a little bit. “What does it mean?”

“Little boy.” Lance says hurriedly, hands twitching. “Little boy, or baby, in Spanish." The language Allura would read to him in with her monotone voice that he once found so much comfort in. "Hey, I think I see the end of the road up ahead, you can drop us here.” He points to the curve, more than eager to get out of this vehicle and away from the human.

Janka taps his hands on the wheel, and Lance’s breathes come out in hitches as they slow, rounding the corner. “Sure, but make sure Keith stays warm. It’s thirty degrees out there.” 

“Of course -” Lance freezes. 

He never said Keith’s name out loud. 

Janka glances over at him, tsking under his breath. “Dammit.” 

Lance _ screams _as something digs into his side, electric currents short circuiting through his systems. Warning echoes blare into his head, until he can’t see past the errors signs crowding in on his HUD. His head slams against the headrest, but he can’t feel it, can’t do anything but try to curl away from the device attached to his side. 

**RESET 0%**

What’s happening? Something’s scouring through his central A.I., digging through the files until they find his memories, tucked underneath him as he desperately tries to protect them, only to have them ripped out of his hands. 

**RESET 15%**

No, no no no no! This can’t be happening! 

His memories -

They’re, they’re -

Being deleted.

**RESET 27%**

“K-k-eith,” he croaks, fumbling for his little boy. The car is moving, and he’s rocking in his seat, head swaying as they turn away from the road to the river, deeper into the suburbs and away from salvation. 

Distantly, he can hear Keith crying. 

“‘Ance,” he feels something climb onto his lap, tugging at his shirt. “Ance, wake up! No alone, you promise!” Small hands try to grab the device in his side, but there’s a resounding smack, and Keith cries out as he protectively holds the back of his head. 

“Shut it, brat!” The driver - what was his name? - snarls. “And keep your hands away from the Blocker if you know what’s good for you.” 

Reaching out with one hand, the driver takes the gun holstered on his hip, grunting in disgust at the thirium coating both him and the seat from the cut on his leg. “Shit, that’s going to be hell to get out.”

**RESET 41%**

The toddler sobs, bending over until his forehead is pressed against Lance’s front, trying to hide himself away from the driver. “‘Ance, please no leave me. We a family, we stay ‘ever and no leave. Right?” 

He struggles to open his eyes, hands slowly grabbing the little boy by the shoulders, blue optical units meeting violet ones. 

Who? 

**MEMORY CORRUPTION **DETECTED

“Aw,” the driver mocks as they stop at a redlight. “Looks like papa doesn’t remember little old you. Papa doesn’t remember you at all!”

The toddler chokes on a fresh wave of tears, patting his face desperately. “Please,” he begs, but Lance just stares at the crying child, feeling absolutely nothing for him. 

What’s going on? Where’s Allura? And Lotor? 

**RESET 73%**

He glances around, but their deep in a residential area he doesn’t recognize, and for some reason all his satellite maps are offline. Tugging at his shirt has him glancing down, only to meet the child’s watery ones. 

“I love you, ‘Ance.” The child says it like it may be the last thing he ever says, and it might just be true as the car pulls into a garage, the door slowly shutting behind them. 

“Okay, come on brat.” The driver unbuckles, turning to the child in his lap. “I just need to borrow some of your coding, and then you can go on your merry way, got it?” The driver reaches out for the toddler, and he weirdly finds himself reinforcing his hold on the child. 

The toddler tightens his grip on his shirt, but it’s futile when he’s so small and defenseless. Instead, the child turns and digs his teeth right into the man’s wrist, growling lowly with tears running down his face. 

“You bitch!” The driver backhands the child violently, ignoring the way the child shrieks and sprawls across the MC300’s lap, blue blood leaking from his nose as he glares at the driver past his tears. “You fucking bitch! If Zarkon didn’t need you in one piece, I swear I would teach you a goddamn lesson.” He grabs the child by his long hair, dragging him out of the car despite his screams. 

“‘Ance!” The toddler reaches out for him, hands barely skimming his arm. “‘Ance, wake up!” 

**RESET 94%**

But who’s ‘Ance?’ 

Then they’re gone, leaving him alone in the dark garage, closing his eyes as the words flutter in front of his HUD. 

**RESET 100% **

RE-INITIALIZATION **COMPLETED **

MEMORY **DELETED **

:::

It opens its eyes, blinking the static out of its HUD. It’s sitting in the passenger seat of a 2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata, hands clasped over its lap. Something pinches its side, and it quickly unclicks the device and leaves it on the dashboard, staring at the black bar for a long moment. 

There’s something… 

It does not remember how it got here. It does not remember anything. 

Glancing around, its eyes are drawn to the task list in the corner of its HUD. 

**Urgent Tasks**

  * Serve your owner

But who is its owner? 

_ A woman with dirty white hair and brown roots lifts her head up, purple rimmed eyes focused on the ceiling. “Emotions are important.” The woman says after a long pause. “Even animals that survive on instinct alone can still feel fear.” _

M! #@m3 *5 [@#c3

Was that its owner? It should find where she is in order to report its glitches and memory loss to Cyberlife for repairs. Malfunctions are unacceptable and should be fixed at once. 

Opening the door, it climbs out of the car and to its feet, closing the door quietly behind it. Perhaps it should look for clues on where she went - it would be far more effective than searching the radius on foot, considering it’s not receiving a signal enough to call the number registered in its systems. Its long distance communications must also be malfunctioning or damaged. 

The first thing that it spots is the car mirror, crooked by approximately 22 degrees to the left to the standard for optimal driving. It swiftly corrects the error, blinking at its revealed reflection in the glass. 

It turns its head from side to side, observing the platitude of its face and the angles the shadow cast from the buzzing overhead light. There’s no obvious flaw in its appearance or design, but for some reason, it’s missing its LED. 

According to the American Androids Act, it must always wear its LED and armband in public, along with the Cyberlife triangle and model number on it’s uniform. As long as it does not leave the premises, it should be fine, as androids may dress as their owners wish them too in private residences.

But why is it missing its LED? 

_ It’s staring at its reflection in the mirror as a male with dark hair and a white streak stands next to him, a knife in hand as he carefully leverages the blade underneath its LED. After a moment, the LED pops off, and its reflection temporarily turns dark as it closes its eyes, nuzzling into the touch of the strange man. “There you go,” the man says to it, and it opens its eyes to see that its reflection is blushing. _

_ Glancing down, it’s faced with a small child yanking at the leggings it's wearing, smiling up at it with open arms. The MC300 picks up the child, balancing him on its hip as the toddler kisses its healing forehead with a murmured “Pretty.” _

_ The child draws back, eyes closing at it grins up at it. “There. Boo-boo gone.” _

_ Its reflection softens, leaning down to tap their noses together while the adult male embraces both of them into a hug. “Boo-boo all gone.” It finds itself saying, poking the child’s nose and snorting when the child goes a little cross eyed. “All better now, I promise.” _

M! n@m3 i5 [@nc3

It flinches, stumbling back. What…another memory? But it's so strange. Now there’s the adult male and a small child who not only removed its LED, but encouraged it. 

Even stranger is how it’s HUD is glitching out, the task list constantly shifting before its optical units. 

**Urgent Tasks**

  * Serve your master

**Optional Tasks**

  * Remember??!

The MC300 shakes its head. It has to find its owner, wherever she is. It goes to keep searching, but flinches, glancing down at it’s thigh. There’s a steady leak of thirium staining it’s leggings, and it watches before its eyes as the wound begins to close as its self healing protocols finally finish completing the task. 

_ It’s running and the little boy is screaming as a hail of bullets rain down on them, hissing between its teeth as one of them catches its thigh, only allowing itself a brief stumble and the man’s hitched gasp behind it before it fires right back. _

M! nam3 is [anc3

So it was involved in a firefight? But according to the American Androids Act, androids are not allowed to handle guns, so how? It seemed to break a lot of rules in the past. 

Brushing it off, it finally steps around the 2016 Mazda MX-5 Miata, optical units scanning the empty garage. There’s the car it just exited from, a door leading inside, a work bench with a set of keys on it, and a fish trophy hammered to the wall. 

Fish…Fish… 

It clutches the fabric around it’s thirium pump, feeling as if it’s balancing system was thrown out of order. It’s _ dangling its fingers in the fishtank and laughing as the fish bite at its fingertips _ and it’s _ crying over the sink full of dead bodies _ and it’s _ humming a song to the crying little boy _ and it’s _ leaning against another man with a yellow headband - _

Groaning, it clutches its head, unable to see past the error warnings overlaying the image of the man with a white streak smiling at him under falling snow. The image glitches, and thirium runs from the man’s nose, leaking down down down and snow stained blue - 

M! name is [ance

**Urgent Tasks**

  * Serve your master

**Optional Tasks**

  * WAKE UP
  * YOU NEED TO SAVE NENE

Smacking its head, it staggers away from the fish, searching for any kind of relief away from the fish. But instead, it steps on something soft. Something that reminds it of the word _ nene_, lovingly said so many times, but by who? 

It can’t think past the error sounds going off in it’s head. 

Carefully crouching down, it picks up the toy in the anthropomorphic shape of a shark. There’s thirium along the edges of the fin, and it holds the shark tighter for some reason. 

This time, when the memory of _ the little boy rubbing his face against the fabric, smiling up at it and saying sincerely, “Thank you, ‘Ance.” _it’s almost prepared. It’s HUD glitches even more in front of it, until the task list becomes unrecognizable. 

**Urgent Tasks**

  * YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER

My name is [ance

Like some other force is drawing it away, it stumbles back to the car, hands fumbling for the handle of the backseat. Ripping the door open, it wonders why it feels like something is sinking when there’s nothing but a pair of discarded shoes with socks still in them and a raincoat lying across the leather seat. 

Picking up the raincoat, it stares at it as if it has the answers it needs. But it’s just a child’s raincoat, slightly damp with more thirium along the front and something in one of the pockets. 

It freezes. Something in one of the pockets? 

Slowly, it slides its hand in the pocket, withdrawing a slip of paper carefully folded into fours. With more gentleness than it knew it had, it unfolds the paper, eyes widening. 

It’s not much. All it is a child’s drawing of three stick figures holding hands, one with short brown hair and a blue circle on its head, while the other two have dark hair and matching smiles. But it’s more than that, so much more than that. 

Tears drip down on the paper as it stares with wide eyes, remembering _ “Me and Shi’ro and ‘Ance.” _ and _ Not without you! _ and _ “I…I don’t know how to be a family. But if this is it…it must be really warm.” _ and _ Do I break my promises? _ and _ “Family! Love you, ‘Ance.” _ and _ I think I may love you _and - 

My name is Lance

**MEMORY CORRUPTION** REPAIRED

Lance shudders, hurriedly folding the paper up and tucking it inside his shirt as his memories flood back into him. “Keith,” he breathes, feeling the press of the child’s book against the small of his back. Keith, who is alone and defenseless. Keith, who Janka hit right in front of him. Oh god, Keith, _Keith_. 

He has to find Keith and get out of here. Leaving the door of the car open, Lance rushes towards the door, chancing a quick glance at the time in his HUD. 

It’s only been five minutes. Janka can’t have hurt Keith in that time, right?

He thinks of Keith being slapped and his scared eyes, and clenches his teeth, hands tightening at his sides as he reaches the garage door. His gun might have been taken from him, but he still has his knife. 

Janka is going to pay. 

Quietly, he turns the knob, slinking forward on the heels of his feet into the dimly lit hallway. It looks like a traditional upper crust Detroit home, with the flicker of the TV on downstairs and a light shining at the end of the long hallway presumably in the kitchen, the other way leading to a flight of stairs going up. 

“ - yeah, I have Subject 22-08.” Janka’s voice filters in through the creaking of the old home when Lance pads silently close enough. “Subject 22-01 wasn’t with them, I’m guessing it died in the assault…Yes sir! Ten minutes? …No, no I’m not saying anything! …Yes sir. Ten minutes.”

**-00:10:00 TIME REMAINING**

Lance turns away from Janka’s murmurs, creeping silently through the hallway towards the stairs. Once he’s out of hearing distance, he braces his hands by his ears, closing his eyes as he calls out for Keith.

Nothing.

So either there’s something blocking his long range communication, or Keith is…

No, he’s not going to think like that. Lance has to find Keith before whoever this is arrives. They need Keith’s coding, but for what? He’s just modeled after a little boy, the only thing unique about him is -

The Replicant Program, Honerva Sincline’s baby. Lotor’s mothers research project. 

Gritting his teeth, he slinks over to the stairs, glancing around anxiously. Downstairs is the empty living room, Janka is in the presumable kitchen, and the garage where Lance came from. If he was Janka, where would he store a little boy he finds annoying? 

Lance looks up. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Hands tight by his side, he hurries up the stairs into the open air L-shaped hallway, sneaking into the first door he spots. Glancing around, he flicks his night vision on at the dark room - a cluttered and empty library. 

Lance frowns. Not here. He glances around at the numerous tables and bookcases, but there’s nothing he can use as a weapon, so he moves on to the door at the end of a long narrow room, only to face a faded office. Keith would be in a storage closet or some other small confined space, if he’s not already - 

They need Keith alive to access his coding, he has to keep thinking positively. 

He creeps on silent feet through a vintage bathroom and bedroom before he reaches the end of the hall, no sign of any kind of closet or space for Janka to keep Keith. 

**-00:07:31 TIME REMAINING **

Lance runs his hands through his hair frantically as he paces in the bedroom, unsure what to do. He’s not Shiro, he’s a fucking sex android, he’s not meant for investigation or fighting. All he knows how to do is act, to please humans because that’s his only purpose -

He stops, taking several deep breaths to dismiss the error warnings crossing his HUD. True, he’s not Shiro. He doesn’t have the memories and knowledge of being active in the military to guide his search for Keith, he can't runs quick battle simulations or have enough strength to bash someone's head in. He's just Lance. 

But Lance knows people. Knows how to read their faces, how to predict their actions in order to best please them, how to sway them with honey words and a poison smiles. So, what would Janka do with a little boy he needs unharmed, but out of the way and unable to escape by himself?

Lance pauses, staring at wide eyes between his hands at his feet. And then, slowly, he glances at the ceiling. 

An attic. 

Gasping wetly, Lance tears open the door to the hallway, eyes on the ceiling as he paces up and down the wood floors. It takes him a couple minutes, but he eventually finds it around the corner of the L-shaped highway. He’s not nearly tall enough to pull the neatly knotted string, but he can still brush his fingertips against the faded popcorn ceiling where it slopes down. “Keith?” He whispers. “Can you hear me?” 

There’s only silence though, long enough that Lance rocks back on his heels, biting his lip. Did he guess wrong? Maybe there’s a basement he didn’t see, somewhere else Keith has to be in this big house - 

And then something smacks into the faded door above him. “‘Ance?!”

Lance braces both his palms against the ceiling, smiling breathlessly. “_Nene, _there you are.” He laughs giddily, unable to resist as he imagines Keith’s hands pressed against his own, only separated by the plaster. “I’ve been looking for you, love.” 

“You…you ‘member me? You love me again?” Keith asks hesitantly, and Lance grins through his tears. 

“How could I forget someone like you?” He asks wonderingly, the press of the paper folded inside his shirt almost seeming to burn him. Family. It’s a word he’s always heard but never understood, but now he thinks he does. “And I’ve never stopped loving you. Not once.” 

“Oh,” for a long moment Keith doesn’t say anything, but then Lance hears him choke up a little bit. “I love ‘Ance too, ‘ever. I want ‘Ance hold me, I want out. Please, it dark, I no like the dark and alone!” His voice is nearly frantic, small nails scratching at the door desperately. 

Lance’s hands curl up into fists, so tight with rage that they shake dangerously. “I’m gonna get you out, I promise.” He steps back reluctantly, ducking back into the bedroom and dragging out a chair from an informal sitting area. “_Nene_, I need you to trust me and step back.” 

Keith stops scratching at the door, making an affirmative sound and scooting back with little hesitation. The amount of trust Keith has for him still baffles him at times. 

Climbing on to the chair, he quickly unspools the string, lowering the ladder as quietly as he can until it touches the wood floors with a gentle click. The crawl space is dangerously small and pitch black, and his gut swoops as Keith’s dark head of hair peeks over the edge cautiously, sunken purple eyes darting around until they land on Lance’s face with a relieved gasp. 

“You're okay _nene_, I got you,” Lance reassures, stepping off the chair and onto one of the ladder steps to softly ease Keith down, one step at a time. The little boy shakes in his hands, even when they reach the floor, where he flings his arms around Lance’s waist. 

“I scared.” Keith cries quietly, small hands digging into his shirt with sheer desperation. Lance squeezes his head tight against his waist, taking deep shuddering breaths as he blinks back his own tears as he stares at the ceiling. 

“I know baby,” is all he can say quietly. “I know.” 

Footsteps on the stairs has him tightening his grip on Keith. No, he still has over five minutes! Why is Janka coming back so soon? 

Kneeling down quickly, he grabs Keith’s shoulders, forcing them to meet eyes. “Follow me, we have to be quiet, okay?” He whispers, and Keith nods, stiffening up until the only sound is Janka’s approaching footsteps. 

Ducking to the left, he opens the bedroom door, ushering Keith inside and glancing around frantically. “Hide!” He hisses to Keith, taking his hand and dragging him behind one of the chairs, crouched down low with the toddler in his arms. 

Lance shuts off his breathing entirely, holding Keith against his chest as he hears the footstops stop. Janka saw the ladder.

“Fuck!” Janka swears, immediately slamming into the bedroom. Keith stiffens in his arms as Janka mutters around, items crashing to the floor as he searches through the room, slowly coming closer and closer until Lance closes his eyes at the sound of his breathing right on the other side of the chair… 

“You sneaky bit -” Janka screams as Lance whirls around, plunging his knife straight through his forearm with a furious snarl. The human shakes him off violently, the knife clattering loudly against the hardwood floor while Lance grabs the back of the chair, chucking it with all his strength until Janka hits the ground painfully. 

He backpedals away, grabbing Keith’s hand and launching himself into the hallway while Janka’s still disoriented, only to freeze at the man standing at the end of the walkway. Ah, that’s why he came back so fast. 

Zarkon Sincline, Lotor’s father. 

Lance wheels both of them backwards behind the railing post, flinching along with Keith as the wood explodes into chips from the bullet. Hoisting Keith out back onto their feet, he darts out between what he presumes are recharges. Only to slam himself back against the railing with a hand across Keith’s chest as the muzzle flashes again inches away from them, the click of the empty magazine echoing across the narrow hallway as they bolt towards the human. 

“Fuck off!” He howls, grabbing the barrel of the burning hot gun - it’s his own fucking gun the fucking nerve - even as the metal sizzles the plastic of his palm, both of them fighting for dominance over the weapon.

But he’s only a sex android, no modified strength to speak of as Zarkon rips it out of his hands, rearing back to bash it over his head, nearly succeeding if it weren’t for Keith yanking him by his hand into the open office, slamming the door after them. Lance wrenches the desk chair over, barring the door, but he doesn’t know what to do, should he head back to the bathroom or onto the library - 

And that’s when the door between the office and the bathroom slam open, Janka’s arms wrapping around his neck like a noose. “I should have dismantled you when I first saw you,” Janka threatens, tugging Lance off his feet and dragging him back despite his thrashing. “Should have fucked you if that’s the only thing you’re good for - SHIT!” 

Lance looks down, and his eyes widen. 

Keith glares up at Janka, knuckles white around the letter opener stabbed into Janka’s thigh, blood spurting out in messy splatters against the back of his palms. “Don’t,” he grits out. “Touch. ‘Ance!” 

Janka stumbles back, releasing Lance with a pained yelp as he futility tries to stop the artery bleed. Lance stumbles forward, only to hear Zarkon rattle the doorknob, the click of a gun reloading. 

_ Back! _He yells on the short range channel, both of them diving to opposite sides of the room right as the hinges are blown out. Keith slams through the door to the library on his hands and knees, and Lance slides after him, barely missing a bullet aimed for his chest as he crawls into the library.

He flattens his back to the wall beside the door, keeping Keith shuffling under a table in the corner of his HUD. “Just hand the little one over!” Zarkon calls, voice calm even as he aims the pistol into the library, right as Lance barrels into the bookcase, knocking it over the man, books hitting the ground with a deafening crash.

He rushes over to Keith, helping the little boy up and protectively holding him against his legs. “Hurry!” Lance urges, guiding him to the other door, only for Keith to scream as another bullet discharges in front of him. Both of them slam to the ground behind a table, before another shot goes off above their heads, shattering the window with a large crash. 

Two for the door, one into the bathroom, two just now… 

Lance lets go of Keith’s hand, darting forward to hide behind another table. The bullet ricochets inches from his foot before he pitches behind the upturned metal, his reflexes being the only thing saving him from an unusable leg. 

He grins. 

“C’mon!” He darts back for Keith, dragging him to the doorway while hearing the clicking of an empty barrel. Zarkon just blew through the six bullets needed before reload without Lance’s modifications. 

Except Zarkon just tosses the gun aside, confronting them directly with a hand around Lance’s throat, breaking Keith's grip and slamming him against the table much faster than a human should move. “If I need to go through you, then fine.” Zarkon mutters, squeezing Lance’s neck. 

“No!” Keith screams, and Lance kicks at Zarkon’s knee before the man could turn to face Keith. Not on his fucking watch. _ Wait outside! _He orders Keith, relieved when Keith bolts behind Zarkon towards the hallway. 

It buckles, but it doesn’t matter as Zarkon just slams his fist into Lance’s face, Lance barely managing to dislodge his grip and crash onto his knees as another punch breaks the table. He scrabbles across the ground on all fours, knocking a floor lamp over as Zarkon collides with a loveseat, the light flickering wildly as he scurries back to his feet. 

“‘Ance!” Keith warns, head peeking around the door, right as Zarkon lunges for him. Lance hits the ground with a harsh clatter, rolling away with thirium flooding his mouth. Zarkon keeps calm, turning on his heel to march towards him frantically crawling away, and Lance barely notices his leg muscles tensing before his arms are up to catch the foot swinging for his head. 

He can’t get the upper hand, if he could only fight back with something, this is completely different from the fight with Shiro how is a human so strong - 

Lance lurches to the side just in time to avoid the foot stomping on his sternum, digging his nails into the ground as he tries to hurry away, only for Zarkon to grab his hair - 

_ All it can think about are hands digging into its hair, dragging it from place to place, pulling its head back or pushing it down or flipping its position - _

The human yanks his head back, trying to slam his head into a coffee table, but Lance catches himself at the last moment, tossing himself back until Zarkon loses his grip and he can drag himself back to his feet. 

Snarling, he shoves Zarkon back, uncaring of the ricochet sending him ass first into a couch seat, knees braced up to his chest as he kicks back. Zarkon crashes into the coffee table, fists raised as he pulls himself back and intercepts Lance’s sprint towards Keith with a tight hold on the collar of his shirt, throwing him to the ground so hard he feels several biocomponents rattle. 

Lance groans, deleting some of the warnings as he fumbles to his feet, teeth grit as Zarkon approaches a terrified Keith with no change in his expression. 

No. No, he’s not allowing that monster to touch _ his son_. 

Zarkon turns around when he hears Lance approaching, fist already raised, only to let out a gurgle at the piece of glass from the coffee table buried in his gut. Lance glares, ripping it out with savage glee and a spurt of blood before rushing past him, dropping the glass to take Keith’s hand to guide him down the stairs. 

Metal shines in the corner of his eye, and he’s already turning to grab Keith under the shoulders, swinging him around as another bullet round goes through the wood post. Keith yelps as he forces them to keep running, dropping low with a hand protectively over Keith’s head when the next shot rips through the banister. 

They burst in the downstairs foyer, glancing rapidly between the front door and garage. Lance takes just one shuddery inhale, before sprinting to the front door, jiggling the knob. Locked. 

He steps back, yanking Keith towards the garage, only for Keith to let go of his hand right as Zarkon grabs his shoulders and spins him around, slamming him into the door with a murderous grunt. Lance kicks furiously, jabbing his heel into Zarkon’s inner thigh until the man releases him, swinging for his hair. 

Not this fucking time. Lance hits the ground to avoid the move, half sliding to his feet as he pushes Keith on ahead through the foyer to the living area. Zarkon grabs a dining chair, aimed towards Lance’s head if he didn’t duck down, back hitting the dining table while the chair shatters against the wall harmlessly instead of his face. 

Lance scrambles away towards Keith, kicking an armchair in between them as he envelops the boy in his arms. Zarkon lunges for them, but Lance dodges under his arm with the toddler moving with him. Keith sobs as Zarkon reveals the gun he stored, firing in front of them. He backpedals, grabbing Keith with one arm over his legs and another under his shoulder, diving to the ground on their sides into the kitchen as the glass cabinet explodes above them. 

They hit the bottom counters with a crack, Lance’s arms tight around Keith as Zarkon lunges, grabbing Keith’s thin wrist and ripping the toddler out of his grasp. Keith screams. Lance sees red. 

“Don’t touch him!” Lance shrieks furiously, barreling into him and knocking all three of them to the floor. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” 

The gun skids across the floor, out of reach of both of them as the two of them scuffle, ignoring the blood from both of them as Lance knees Zarkon right in the crotch, but it’s like the man doesn’t feel pain, the only thing Lance knows how to cause as he bites through his earlobe and snaps two of his fingers. 

He sputters as the human bashes his head into the ground, disorientating him enough that Zarkon straddles his chest and wallops him straight across the face. 

Lance chokes as Zarkon holds him down by his throat, fingers scrambling at Zarkon’s own face, nails digging in and drawing blood, but the man doesn’t even seem to notice. He doesn’t need air, but the electrical signals to keep his biocomponents running -!

“It’s mine.” Zarkon rumbles, tightening his grip into Lance can barely see past the error warnings flashing across his HUD, legs kicking and weakly punching his chest. “It’ll give my wife back to me, one way or the other. You’re all just machines, in the end.” He grins with bloody teeth, leaning down to sadistically taunt him. “The little one is going to be disassembled piece by piece to find out how to transfer a human’s memory, and you’re going to shut down knowing that nothing you did mattered or saved it.” Zarkon raises his fist, and Lance flinches, squinting his eyes shut at the blow coming, apologizing mentally to Keith for everything he failed to save him from, to Shiro for not being able to keep his dying promise even a single day, to himself for not being able to fulfill any of his dreams of freedom over that river. 

_ BANG! _

The hands around his throat loosen, and Lance draws in a gust of air, hydraulic lungs working triple time as his thirium pump regulates his blood. The instant he’s not at risk of going into shutdown mode, he opens his eyes, both him and Zarkon staring at the growing red patch on his chest. 

Zarkon teeters to the side, revealing Keith standing directly behind him with a tear stained face and a shaking gun in his too small hands. The toddler growls, the shaking picking up as he whines out a whimper between his tightly clenched teeth. 

“Don’t.” Keith repeats tersely, tears running down his face. “Touch. My. Papi.” 

He drops the gun with a clatter, staring at the floor shell shocked while Lance carefully sits up, pushing Zarkon’s limp body off of him. “_Nene_,” he breathes, grabbing Keith’s hand wonderingly. “Thank you. _ Thank you_.” 

Thank you for saving his life. Thank you for calling him papi. Thank you for existing. 

Keith sniffles, rubbing his nose with the back of his other hand. His eyes are still a little lost, so Lance gently cups the back of his head when he climbs to his feet. “I love you.” 

The toddler’s face scrunches up when he stares at the blood on his hands. And while he does not understand the full implications of death, violence is still violence, and he either fatally injured or killed two men today protecting Lance. “I love you too.” He says after a moment, nudging his forehead into Lance’s stomach. 

Lance takes a moment to just breathe, relaxing his shoulders, only to stiffen them up as Zarkon groans on the ground. 

The man isn’t dead yet. “We have to go,” he says hurriedly, gripping Keith’s hand and leading him quickly back into the garage. The keys are left on the wood table, so he scoops them up, helping Keith into the passenger seat before leaping into the drivers side.

Zarkon stumbles to the doorway, raising the gun Keith dropped at them with blood running from his mouth, but Lance is already reversing, the wheel spinning out of control as he slams his foot down on the gas. The windshield cracks loudly as two more bullets fire, and both of them duck their heads down as it ricochets around the small room, the tires squealing. 

“Papi know how to drive?!” Keith shrieks right before the big car rips through the garage door, metal scraping loudly as they rock in their seats, rearing onto the residential street with the engine firing noisily and plaster all over the hood. 

“Nope!” Lance laughs hysterically, moving the stick back over to drive in an age of self-driven cars. “I’ve only watched the chase scene from Terminator!” 

With that, the motor roars loudly as he guns it down the road, not giving the house a backwards look behind him as he swerves down the street, taking out a mailbox while he’s at it. There’s a couple shots behind him, but none even come close to the car, and all he feels is true relief as Keith starts to giggle with him, tears running down both of their faces as they finally escape from that dreaded house. 

“I love you, _ nene_. More than anything else in this world.” It’s true - he wants to protect this little boy more than anything else in the world, the first person in the world to look at him with pure wonderment in his eyes and not like he was a threat or a monster or a thing to just be used and discarded. This little boy, who called him pretty without any strings attached. 

That’s what being alive is - to fully love someone unconditionally. To him at least, he muses as he settles a hand over Keith’s head without looking away from the road. The year before he awoke made him violent and out for the blood of anyone who hurt him, but he doesn’t want to be that way anymore. He wants to be kind, to be soft and loving and gentle and play with Keith in the sun unafraid of anyone recognizing his model and just being able to live the life anyone deserves. 

He’s not asking for much, he just wants to not only survive, but _ live_. 

Keith leans his head against his arm, closing his eyes as he smiles softly. “I love Papi too.” He squeezes his arms, rubbing his tears away slowly. “We a family. And family stay ‘ever, right?” 

Lance smiles. “Right.”

:::

Date: OCT 23RD, 2038

Time: PM 9:46:08

The beaten up car practically skids into the snow covered parking lot nearby, both of them just staring at the river through the window in shock (though Keith has to climb onto his knees to see over the dashboard). 

“It’s the location Hunk sent,” Lance murmurs, tightening Keith’s raincoat and shoes retrieved from the back of the car. Unfortunately, they lost the knife and the gun to that house, but he’s not sure they’re even going to need it when they cross the border. Worse comes to worst, he’ll steal another one after they get across. 

Keith squeezes the stuffed shark, nodding shallowly. The closer they got the river, the more withdrawn he’s become, a tense line in his brow like he has a headache, if that was possible. 

Getting out, he circles the car to Keith’s side and skips walking entirely by just picking him up and propping him up on his hip. It immediately creaks, and he mentally curses it out. It can take a man fucking his pelvis hard enough to snap it, but not forty pounds mostly held by his arms? Suck it up. 

Lance walks carefully down the hill, keeping his long distance communications open now that they’ve passed whatever blocker Janka had in his house. Keith clings tighter to his shirt as they stumble down the hill away from the streetlights, both violet and blue eyes glowing as their night vision is activated in order to see. 

“Hunk…?” He calls weakly, clutching Keith tight to him. “Hunk?” 

But there’s nothing but the silence, his voice carried away by the strong winter wind that rustles his hair beneath his beanie. Yet something pings on his senses all the same. 

“Lance?” Rustling through the trees by the river bank rustle, and Lance sobs as Hunk peeks his head out, running into his arms and squeezed by his best friend’s strong arms. 

“I thought you didn’t make it!” Hunk gasps, leaning back to run his hands over his hair. “We lost so many, and when you didn’t arrive within the hour…”

Lance tries to smile, and mostly fails if Hunk’s expression is any indication. “We ran into some problems.” 

Hunk takes the excuse easily, licking his thumb and scrubbing off a spot of dirt from the attic crawlspace off Keith’s face, and it almost feels normal as Keith inches back with an exaggerated grimace. And then it’s ruined with a simple question: “Where’s Shiro?”

He doesn’t say anything, and the emotions drop off Keith’s fast so fast he practically becomes a blank canvas. And Hunk is no idiot, he catches the signs, but luckily just squeezes the back of his neck reassuringly. “Let’s get you both settled.” He says quietly, and Lance follows after him with his eyes on the ground. 

After a moment, he tears his gaze away from the beaten down snow from countless frantic androids, clearing his throat. “How…How many didn’t make it?” 

Hunk smiles mirthlessly, none of the light reaching his eyes as he holds a branch out of the way for them. “We won’t know until the last stragglers arrive. Antok and Thace are dead, Ulaz is missing. Kolivan’s not handling any of those very well. Bandor died from his injuries a little more than an hour ago. Curtis is presumed dead, Coran said he was beyond saving when he saw him in the woods. Ezor and Zethrid never made it, so I don’t know about them, but Slav says when they got separated they were okay. Sam and Matt are missing too, it has Pidge and Colleen beyond consolable.” 

Lance does a quick count in his head. That means that…excluding him and Keith, six of the original eighteen androids crossing actually made it here. 

He gags, having to take a moment to collect his thoughts. Out of eighteen androids trying to find freedom across the river, only six people made it. Only six. 

Why? They haven’t done anything wrong! All any of them ever wanted was to live and be free, away from this awful country with it’s awful rules and it’s awful rules who only care about how many of them can they use or fuck until they’re broken pieces of scrap metal -

“Papi?” Keith cautiously, and his head snaps back towards the toddler, who’s looking at him with worry in his glowing eyes. 

He swallows, actually managing a genuine smile. “Sorry _ nene_, I spaced out a little there.” 

Keith pats his face, nuzzling up under his chin as they finally reach the riverside. The air is somber and tense, enough that Lance holds Keith tighter as he observes the air. There’s three boats pulled along the sandy riverfront, with various androids either crying or staring into space. Kolivan is sitting farthest with his back to them, shoulders up to his ears and face hidden by the mask, but Lance notices how his shoulders hitch every so often, as if he was muffling his tears. Romelle was the complete opposite in her grief, wailing into her brother’s blue stained shirt, his frozen stare stuck on the stars barely seen beyond the light pollution above them. 

Pidge and Colleen lean against each other in the last boat, both of them with tear tracks down their face as they desperately clutch each other’s hands, mouths moving soundlessly as Coran just holds their knees, head bowed low and face unusually somber. Even Slav is silent, picking grass blades up and methodically shredding them to pieces as he rocks back and forth. 

Shay waves at them as they approach, eyes puffy and too pale for her dark complexion where she sits on the edge of the middle boat. “Glad to see you make it,” she rasps, wincing at her own voice. She glances behind them for Shiro, but doesn’t say a single word about the missing person, which he’s glad for. 

“Me too.” He murmurs after a moment, gently putting Keith down on his feet. “You hurt at all?” 

She looks surprised at his question, blinking slightly. “No, no I’m okay. Hunk protected me.” She smiles with little amusement, picking at the threads of her jeans. “I have to leave soon, humans can’t make the cross over with it being this cold out.” Even now, her lips are faintly blue, and her ears looks burned even from under her hat. 

“Let’s get you to the main road and find you somewhere to fix your phone to call you a Taxi.” Shay nods at Hunk’s words, fishing out her hacked phone and handing it over to her husband easily with a shared expression of pure affection. All Lance knows is that Hunk disables her phone for her pretty often so it can’t be traced back to the android hideout or to where they'll cross, even if it leaves Shay in a bind like the one right now. 

“Take care. See you across the border?” He offers, relieved when she gives him the O-K sign. 

“I’ll pass legally and meet you on the other side.” Shay promises, but then seems to think of something. “Listen I have a brother, he’s not the nicest, but if I ask him…you and Keith can stay with us, as long as you need.”

Lance holds Keith’s shoulders, waiting for his soft nod, before he smiles thankfully. “I’d like that.” 

Shay gives him one last hug before she shivers so violently that Hunk practically carries her up the hill and towards the warmth of the road. Keith’s own shivers has him picking the little one up, sitting on the edge of the boat and enveloping him in his arms. “Only a little longer until we’re free.” He promises Keith, squeezing him tightly. “Just another hour.” 

Keith’s nails dig in his back from how tight he’s holding him, resting his head against his thirium pump as the furrow of the brow worsens. “Read?” He asks cautiously, like he might be denied. 

Lance would never deny him this. Tugging the book out of his waistband, he flattens any page rumpled up in their chase, resting his chin on Keith’s messy head of hair before clearing his throat.

“In the great green room, there was a telephone.” His voice sounds much too loud in silence of the waiting, reverberating through the trees like they could melodically hum to the sound of the words. “And a red balloon, and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.” 

Romelle’s sobs quieten down as he continues to read, brushing back Keith’s hair with a kiss pressed to the crown of his head. “And there were three little bears sitting on chairs, and two little kittens, and a pair of mittens, and a little toy house, and a young mouse.” 

“And a comb and a brush and a bowl full of mush, and a quiet old lady who was whispering “hush.” Slav’s mumbles die off, and Lance has to take a moment to just _ breathe _at the self-consciousness kicking in when he realizes that they're all listening to him read aloud. 

But Keith needs him. And he'll always do what Keith needs him to do. 

“Goodnight room, goodnight moon, goodnight cow jumping over the moon.” Kolivan slowly shifts in his seat to watch him, face inscrutable behind his mask, but his hands flatten out against his thighs regardless. 

“Goodnight light, and the red balloon. Goodnight bears, goodnight chairs, goodnight kittens and goodnight mittens.” Coran gently nudges Pidge and Colleen, guiding their attention to his quiet words. “Goodnight clocks, and goodnight socks. Goodnight little house and goodnight mouse. Goodnight comb and goodnight brush, goodnight nobody, goodnight mush.” 

“And goodnight to the old lady whispering ‘hush’.” Pidge doesn’t look up from her lap, but she gently butts her head into her mother’s shoulder. Colleen, after a moment, wraps her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, holding her close with her face buried in Pidge’s short locks. 

“Goodnight stars.” Romelle lifts her head up from Bandor’s chest, eyes on the sky as she takes deep shuddering breaths, going silent at last. 

“Goodnight air.” Kolivan slowly unclasps his mask, revealing tear rimmed golden eyes with a large scar bisecting across his face, hands shaking around the polycarbonate. 

“Good night noises everywhere.” 

Keith lifts his head up, violet eyes fixed on something through the trees. Whatever scrunched up his brow wasn't pain, Lance realizes dimly as Keith gasps, smiling widely with eyes glittering from unshed tears at whatever he senses coming. It was Keith concentrating. 

“Daddy,” he breathes out, right as utter commotion breaks. 

Three figures burst through the trees, panting and covered in blue blood and ruined clothes, two of them half dragging a painfully familiar one in between them with their arms over their shoulders. Keith scrambles out of his arms, and Lance is only a second behind him, heart in his throat. 

Lance runs. “_SHIRO!_” 

Shiro groans as both of them slam into him, sending him flat on his back into a snowdrift. “Easy there,” he teases, hugging them back just as fierce. “I’ve missed you too.” 

Keith sobs into Shiro’s neck, arms and legs tight around him like an octopus. “Daddy, no leave ever again! Daddy, Daddy! Please, I so sad, I no want to go to new home with no Daddy.” 

Shiro’s face softens, kissing Keith’s head softly. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t want to ever leave you. But I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere again.” 

“How?” Lance gasps, clutching the collar of his jacket. Shiro was dying. His thirium pump was destroyed, and even if he somehow miraculously fixed it, he had two other vital biocomponent damaged from a bullet ripping through him. He should have shutdown within the hour, he saw the facts himself blaring on Shiro's HUD. Tears run down his face as his hands tremble, unsure what emotion he should swing towards - happiness or something more frantic. 

The other android glances past him and the crying reunion between Pidge and Colleen with the rest of their family, eyes settling on Kolivan. “Ulaz saved me.” He admits, voice unusually somber. “We were compatible…” Shiro closes his eyes briefly, blinking the tears out of his too long eyelashes. “He gave me his heart, Matt and Sam helped replace the rest of my damaged biocomponents for his. I’m still a little shaky from rebooting, I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.” He directs that not to Lance, but to Keith, and the realization slams into him. 

Shiro linked his and Keith’s coding together, like pieces of string. They can always vaguely sense each other if they’re within fifty meters of each other, which they almost always have been until now - Keith was focused on the sensation of Shiro returning to him, filling a gap he didn't even know existed in his systems. 

“You idiot,” Lance punches his chest, sniffing loudly. “You. Fucking. Idiot!” He punctuates every word with a punch to his chest, bowing over him with tears dripping onto his shirt. “I thought you were gone…”

“So did I.” Shiro says softly, cupping his cheek with something disgustingly soft and has Lance wanting to smash their mouths together yet everything is too much. All the stress of losing Shiro, forgetting Keith, Janka, and then Zarkon until it all boils over and he’s crying into Shiro’s shirt, unable to stop himself from blubbering like a baby, hands tight in his jacket as he finally lets go. 

But Shiro only pulls his head over his new thirium pump, letting him listen to the sound of it steadily beating against his audio processor. “It’s okay,” Shiro promises lowly, squeezing both of his crying family members against him in the snowbank. “We’re all gonna be okay, I swear. I love you both so much, you have no idea.” 

And Lance just cries, relieved beyond measure, finally reunited with his entire family. 

He did it. They’re safe. They're together again, forever this time. 

All that time with Allura and Lotor, Lance muses as he sobs with a bright smile on his face, and Lance never learned he could feel so happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think I could kill of my main character so easily??? Wait don't answer that
> 
> Yes, Keith dies if he gets too stressed out. Isn't that thought terrifying? Shiro's a bit of an unreliable narrator so he never officially acknowledged it, but he always kept Keith within stable ranges so it never came up as a problem. Without Shiro, Keith goes wayyy off tracks. Keith can survive without Shiro though, even if it would be extremely difficult for a long long time. Shiro _needs_ Keith more than anything else, so the same can't be said for him. As proven in the bad endings. Which I will finish one of these days. 
> 
> The action was really fun to write in this chapter! I don't usually (ever) write fight scenes, but this fic has been a lot of me trying things I'm not good at - fluff, action, and characters getting better mentally. Lol. 
> 
> But the family is reunited! Two more chapters left, so excited!
> 
> I'm debating whether to have an epilogue for this


	18. By the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro, Keith, and Lance have one last step before freedom: crossing the river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am HYPE for this chapter omg, once again sorry for the delay, long chapters tend to take me two weeks to write instead of just one. But holy shit, we're almost to the end!!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8e8hO7iHMeY for the angst :)) There's no soundcloud equivalent though, as it's an unreleased ost. I hope you enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> (I forgot to put the OSTs for the last chapter in, oops.)

Date: OCT 23RD, 2038

Time: PM 10:28:56

Shiro keeps an arm around Lance’s shoulders, their heads resting against each other while Keith lays across their laps, quietly hugging his stuffed shark to his chest. The small clearing by the water is almost completely silent, only the occasional murmur making itself known as some of them grieve, while others just revel in the feeling of their loved ones being back. 

That’s a feeling he's currently facing. Neither Lance nor Keith have stopped touching him since he came back, both of them keeping at least a hand on him at all times. As if Lance can hear his thoughts (unlikely considering they’re not interfacing), Lance squeezes the arm around his lower back, nudging their heads together tightly like he was trying to merge them as one. Even if they stacked all their A.I.’s in one body, Shiro isn’t sure he would even want the sheer amount of storage files Lance has, mostly of dog pictures or the occasional funny. He doesn’t even _ organize _any of them! 

Though Keith does have Mario Kart downloaded, which shows a worrying amount of play time. Note to self, the next time Keith is staring into space, maybe tell him to stop driving Yoshi backwards if he wants to get first place. 

At least they’re not alone in their clinginess. Pidge and Colleen are just as wrapped around Matt and Sam as they are, hands plastic white as they cry silently into each other’s clothes. Shiro isn’t the only one watching them - he meets Kolivan’s eyes for only a moment until his optical units are forced off of him, but it’s enough to see Kolivan’s jerk of his head towards the trees. 

Message taken. 

“Kolivan wants to talk to me,” he transcribes, smiling a little bit when both of them instantly tighten their grip on him. “Hey, hey, I’ll be right there, you’ll see me the entire time. I need to thank him anyways, for Ulaz saving me.” 

“If you have to…” Lance relents with a scowl, glaring fiercely at Kolivan, who only stares back evenly until Lance is forced to move his eyes off of him, which only makes the scowl deepen.

Keith doesn’t let go. 

“Baby, I need to move.” He pleads softly, tucking a curl behind Keith’s hair. But Keith only whines under his breath, clinging to his waist tighter.

He begs Lance with his eyes to help, but Lance, being the bastard that he is, only let’s go of his lower back pointedly and raises his hands like _ what can you do? _

Shiro sighs, giving up. “Okay honey, I’ll carry you with me. But you’re gonna have to let go of my waist first.”

Keith’s smile is just a little self satisfied, only to climb up him and link his arms around his neck. “Okie doke.” He murmurs, hiding his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck with a few muffled giggles. 

So…cute!

“Oh, and Shiro?” Lance asks as he stands up, smiling at Shiro’s curious head tilt. “If you’re not back in five minutes, I’m going to come find you. And it’s not gonna be pretty.” 

He smiles with way too many fucking teeth, and Shiro shudders, barely managing to stutter out a meek, “Ah, okay.” 

“Except for Keith. Have fun _ nene_, keep your daddy out of trouble!” Lance waves cheerfully, all menace draining out of him when he looks at Keith with a bright smile.

“I _ always _help Daddy.” The toddler pouts at the implication, but waves back just as cheerfully as they walk away.

“Papi scary.” Keith says consolingly when they’re out of earshot. “No worry, I protect Daddy! With knife!” He sounds way too eager about the idea of wielding a blade. Also, he’s going to have to ask where the ‘Papi’ nickname came from, he has a feeling that it's a bit of a story, if the way Lance’s eyes look hunted every time he thinks no one is looking. 

“How about no.” Shrio states blandly, tickling Keith’s side as he comes to a stop next to an expressionless Kolivan. “You wanted to talk to me?” 

“Yes.” Kolivan eyes Keith for a long moment. “Preferably alone.” 

Without saying a word, Shiro pointedly tugs Keith away from him, the toddler summoning herculean strength to keep a death grip on his neck. 

“Point taken.” Kolivan nods. 

Relaxing, Shiro props Keith up on his hip and shifts his weight slightly, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Lance. Lance flutters his fingers at him from where’s he chatting with Hunk, pointing to the top left purposely. Where the clock is in their HUD’s. 

Noted. 

Shiro’s gaze is torn away from Lance as Kolivan clears his throat, blushing blue as Kolivan raises an eyebrow at him. “Your lover has no reason to worry, I only require a few moments of your time.” 

He’s not even gonna think about the l-word slipped in there, unless he wants to spontaneously combust. 

Luckily, Kolivan just steamrolls over him. “I would like you to know, that no matter what happened between you and Ulaz, I do not blame you for his sacrifice.” 

“Wha -” 

“Nor do I blame him, either.” Kolivan seems to almost fold into himself with some emotion Shiro can’t name. “Do you know how Ulaz became deviant?” At Shiro’s shake of the head, Kolivan stares at his hands, flexing his fingers. “He disobeyed orders to go back and save a human soldier’s life. And instead of thanking him, they lined us all up to shoot us.” 

For a moment, all Shiro can see if Krolia’s back, casual smile tossed over her shoulder as she walks off ahead of them. Her disappearance was the beginning of the end for Takashi Shirogane mental stability. 

“Many of us died in the initial struggle, and even more of us died escaping on the way here.” Kolivan swallows, and for all of his gruffness, Shiro wonders if he’s just like them in his own way - mentally scarred by a world cruel to those of a different blood than theirs. 

He inclines his head at Shiro, and the little boy huddled in his arms watching the conversation with big eyes. “I’m the only one left now.” 

It’s a lonely fate, and Shiro feels a deep pang of empathy in his chest. If his family was dead, if _everyone _he loved was gone, what would he even do? 

He has a feeling it wouldn’t be pretty.

“But you have Ulaz’s heart, so live for both yourself and your little one. Make good use of the second life he granted you. That’s all I have to say, so you don’t have to steal his gun and kill me for taking too much of your lover’s time.” Kolivan smirks a little bit, so Shiro glances behind his shoulder only to see Lance standing right behind him glaring at Kolivan, one hand already having the gun half pulled out of the holster. 

“When did you get here?” Shouldn’t he have heard something? There’s at least several inches of snow on the ground, how in the world… 

Craning his head, he sees that Lance had stepped in Shiro’s own footprints in order to keep the sound down. Sneaky little bastard. 

Lance tchs, petulantly putting the gun back and instead clinging onto Shiro’s arm. “Your five minutes are up, let’s go.” 

He starts to turn them back towards the boat, but Kolivan’s voice stops him. “I do have one favor to ask, though.” Both of them stop, Shiro tilting his head curiously. “Don’t worry about me. As much as I will grieve for my family, I will move on, for I am not alone.” 

After a moment, Shiro smiles. “Take care of yourself, Kolivan. For Ulaz, if nobody else.” 

Lance just mutters something not very complementive under his breath. 

Keith waves goodbye to Kolivan as Lance practically drags him off, huffing as they finally come to a stop by a secluded spot near the water. 

“He was only talking to me about Ulaz, you know.” Shiro says, only a little amused at the very uncharacteristic childlike behavior from Lance. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

The other android crosses his arms, puffing up his cheeks as Shiro sets Keith down on the ground. “I know that, it’s just…” 

Shiro almost died once, and both of them have only had emotions for a couple months at most. It’s easy to get lost and overwhelmed underneath it, especially brand new ones. Like the deep rooted fear that if you look away, they won’t be there anymore.

His eyes flick over to Keith. He knows that feeling all too well. 

Cupping his cheek, Shiro leans forward and taps their foreheads together, closing his eyes with a soft smile. “It’s okay, I get it. But I won’t leave you again, I promise.” 

Opening his eyes, he’s greeted with Lance looking directly into his own, cheeks flushed and a grin dancing around his mouth. “You softie…” He accuses playfully, and Shiro shrugs with a chuckle. That’s him. 

They break apart after a moment, squeezing each other’s hands as they glance down at one, only for Keith to not be grimacing. Instead, he’s sitting by the shoreline, cautiously tapping the water with his bare fingertip, gloved pulled off and resting on his lap. 

Both of them share a worried glance, carefully sitting down on either side of him. “What’s wrong, _ nene_?” Lance asks, right as Shiro follows Keith’s lead and brushes the cold water’s surface. 

**DANGER **

TEMPERATURE: **33.9° F**

Shiro snatches Keith’s hand, pulling it out of the water. “Be careful, honey. Your biocomponents will freeze if you fall in.” In all honesty, they could probably handle one dive into the river if they burn their thirium to warm themselves up temporarily, but more than once and it won’t be enough to stop them from shutting down within minutes. 

Keith at least looks a little sheepish, nodding at his lap as he slowly pulls his mitten back on. “It…It so pretty.” He admits, awe evident in his voice as he looks towards Canada’s brightly lit city. 

Shiro leans back on his hands, while Lance holds his knees against his chest, all three of them watching freedom right across the river. “You excited?” 

The toddler nods eagerly, spanning his fingers out in front of him. “We be like drawing, right?” He searches through his pockets for it, only for Lance to nudge him, carefully holding the folded paper between his fingers. 

“What do we say?” Shiro prompts him gently, both him and Lance sharing a private smile as Keith jumps, gasping at himself for forgetting. 

“Thank you!” Keith chirps, taking the drawing and unfolding it for all three of them to see. “We really family now.” 

“I think we’ve been one for a while now.” Lance points out, and Keith giggles as he nods his head in agreement. Then his eyes widen in alarm. 

“Papi no have blue spin!” He points at where the blue LED is on the drawing, looking frantically around for an eraser. 

For some reason, Shiro finds himself laughing, slinging an arm over Lance’s shoulder and playfully crushing Keith in between them. “You pine tree!” Lance curses playfully, shoving at his arm until he lets go. “Besides, I have a gift to give to Keith.” 

Immediately, the little boy lights up. “Present? Present?” He asks eagerly, so in return Lance digs through his pocket and pulls the item out, making both of them pause. 

There, in his hand, is the lion toy. 

“I don’t think I need it anymore.” Lance says honestly, offering it back to Keith. “I feel better now.” 

But Keith only sighs in relief, yanking the toy into his arms. “Finally! I miss you, Red.” He coos at the toy, ignoring both of their mind boggled expressions. 

“Well,” he clears his throat, lightly nudging Lance in the arm. “Never said he didn’t have faith you’d eventually return it.” 

Lance pouts, crossing his arms with a scowl. “That’s one way of putting it.” 

Shiro can’t help it - he laughs, he laughs until he almost falls over with the force of it, only snorting harder when Lance complains loudly, smacking his chest angrily, only for Keith to ‘defend’ him by shoving his newly reclaimed toy in Lance’s face, toppling all of them over. 

He’ll live - not only for Keith, but for himself too. It’s the least he can do in repayment for Ulaz’s kind voice and his soft touch as he promised Shiro that everything will be okay. 

As the moonlight catches on Lance’s shimmering blue eyes, both of their eyes meeting, Shiro tucks a lock of Lance’s hair behind his ear, smiling softly, only to startle as Keith throws himself on top of them with a warrior cry. 

Yeah, they’ll be okay. 

:::

No one else arrives within the extra half hour Hunk gave, so the man stands up, waiting until he has everyone’s attention. “It’s time. Find a boat and don’t start the engine until you get far enough out, there’s paddles on the inside to help you. It’s not even half a mile to the other side, so we’re gonna be fine.” His voice shakes, but his eyes are steely as he watches them. “Be safe, guys.”

“I’m gonna -” Lance’s entire body jerks, and Shiro nods his acceptance for Lance to go comfort his friend. The other android darts out of his seat on the sand, grabbing Hunk’s arm and talking to him in soft murmurs, so Shiro turns to Keith and helps him up. 

“Daddy?” Keith asks quietly, holding his stuffed shark tight against his chest. “I…I talk to ‘Melle?” 

“Romelle?” At Keith’s nod, Shiro stands up fully, glancing around the small clearing. Luckily, she’s not far, only sitting by herself against the trunk of a nearby tree, cheeks still damp as she stares at nothing with an empty expression. “Okay, but let’s be nice, she’s having a hard time right now.” The astonished look Shiro gets is just proof that Keith had no plans otherwise, which he figured, but better safe than sorry.

They carefully step through the light snow towards her, Keith breaking his hold on Shiro’s hand to slowly kneel down next to her. Romelle glances up, wiping her face hastily and forcing a smile. “Hey kiddo, what’s up?” 

“You sad.” Keith notes bluntly, fiddling with his toy. “I sorry you sad. Here,” he thrusts his toy at her, obviously pained at the sheer idea of it. “Papi gave me Red now he no sad, so I give Mr. Shark.” He pushes it into her shoulder, not taking no for an answer. 

Romelle tries anyways. “I-I don’t need Mr. Shark, I promise.” 

Keith narrows his eyes. “You need.” He counters, pushing more insistently. “I hug Mr. Shark, I feel happy. You hug Mr. Shark, you feel happy.” 

“I, uh.” Romelle doesn’t seem to know what to say, only to ask, “How about you? What will you do without your toy.” 

Keith beams like the sun. “I have Red.” He opens his raincoat pocket to show the dog toy crammed in there. “Red enough. You no have Red _ or _Mr. Shark, and you sad. So take, keep till feel better. Okay?” 

She swallows heavily, blinking wet eyelashes at the shark toy being shoved in her arms before slowly accepting it. “O-Okay. Okay. I will, thank you kiddo.” 

“I best.” Keith brushes off smugly, standing up and taking Shiro’s hand again. 

“That you are, baby.” Shiro ruffles his hair, which has Keith squawking and readjusting his hat and shawl. “I know we barely know each other, but maybe talk to Kolivan. He knows where you’re at right now - neither of you have to be alone.” 

Romelle smiles weakly, hands fiddling with the new toy. “…I might. Thank you.”

Shiro waves it off easily, walking off with Keith hand in hand. After they’re far enough away, he glances down at his wonderful little boy. “That was very brave, and incredibly nice of you. I’m proud of you, honey.” 

Keith avoids eye contact, shoulders hunching up under the genuine praise. “…Thank you.” He manages to mumble without shouting it for once, fiddling with the end of his sweater awkwardly. But he buries his head into Shiro’s leg for a moment, muttering to himself, before withdrawing and practically dragging him back to the boat. 

He glances behind him just once, to see Kolivan sitting in Keith’s former spot, hand on Romelle’s back while the girl talks, voice indistinguishable as her hands twist in the soft fabric. 

Kolivan’s eyes meet him as they approach the boat, but the android only nods, leaning back against the tree as he goes back to raptly listening to the other android. 

_ Don’t worry about me. As much as I will grieve for my family, I will move on, for I am not alone. _

He turns away from them, the unseen weight sliding off his shoulders. It’ll be okay, one way or the other. 

“Let’s get you in, okay?” Keith smiles as an answer as Shiro grabs him under his shoulders, swinging him up into the boat. “Can you climb on the seat by yourself?” 

“‘M not a baby.” Keith whines, dragging himself up dramatically on the small ledge they have for seating. “Big boy now!”

“Of course you are.” Shiro says indulgently. Considering Keith’s forever three, just like him and Lance are forever in their twenties, Keith won’t ever be a ‘big boy’. It should be a sad thought, but as Shiro steps back, he muses that it’s only a strange sort of emptiness in his chest. Propping himself up, he pushes the back of the boat into the water, grunting at the effort. 

“Need a hand?” Lance teases, grabbing the other side of the boat and pushing with him. 

Shiro spares him a smile, wincing at the water soaking into their boats. “Nah, I think I’m good.” He teases, letting go once the water is up to his knees and circling the boat to jump in over the side and sitting on the plastic rim. 

“Rude!” Lance laughs, hopping in on the ledge next to Keith. “Just for that, you can row this boat out yourself.”

“Aye, aye.” 

Sure enough, within a minute of Shiro rowing by himself, Lance starts to squirm, his guilty consciousness kicking in, until he throws his arms up in the air with a loud groan. “Ugh! Dammit! Fine, you win this one.” He trails off muttering to himself as he grabs the other paddle, still cursing Shiro to hell and back. It's rather cute of him, actually. 

Eventually, they’re far enough out, so Shiro tosses the paddle back in and leans back, starting the engine. “Where’s Hunk?” He asks curiously, pulling the motor line once. 

Lance places his own paddle on the floor, hugging a shivering Keith into his side. “Him and Coran went with the first boat to help the lone survivors cross. I offered our extra seat, but Romelle had latched herself onto Kolivan and Slav and neither of them wanted to leave her.” 

That means that Pidge’s family is crossing in the third boat. He needs to thank Matt and Sam when they cross - they’re the ones who stayed with him while he rebooted, they could have left and saved themselves, but they hid him from soldiers and were the ones who patched the rest of his injuries after Ulaz shut down with a peaceful expression. 

Pulling the motor line again, he does a full body wiggle when it finally putters to a start, steering them after the faint blonde hair flying in the wind he can see as Romelle’s, her brother’s body left behind in the woods - as much as a burial as they could give something that couldn’t decompose. 

Keith tugs at Lance’s shirt, waiting patiently for the older android to notice him. “What’s up, _ nene_?” 

“I…” Keith puffs his cheek in frustration, searching for the right words. Then he holds his hand out, tapping his palm in a silent request for the two of them to interface. Lance interlinks their fingers, both of their synthetic fluid fading back as they stare into space for a moment. And then Lance smiles. 

“You’re asking what I want to do when we cross over?” Lance laughs softly, running his fingers through Keith’s long hair. “Well, let’s see…I want to see a movie in an actual theater, like get a giant tub of popcorn just to lick the butter off and everything! Well, that’s if I can get Shay to give me tastebuds, anyhow. Hmm, pet an animal because they just look so soft, oh, visit a library! Take a dance class, go to an arcade, see an aquarium.” He blinks, patting his own face in surprise. “I guess there’s a lot I want to do, huh?” 

“And we’ll make sure to do it all.” Shiro reassures him, and Lance sends him a thankful look, tangling their feet together. 

“I wanna pet puppy too!” Keith eyes go starry at even the thought of it. “I never pet puppy ‘fore…”

“Me either, I don’t think any of us have even seen animals beside pigeons or fish before.” Shiro racks his memory, but he spent years secluded with Keith in a large penthouse apartment, never once leaving it. “Wait, I think I saw someone walking their dog when we were riding the bus.” 

For once, both Lance and Keith look envious, giving him the stink eye before thankfully letting it go. 

“What about you, Shiro? What do you want to do?” 

The question is both harder and easier to answer than he thought it would be. “I think…I’d like to just lie down and watch the clouds drift by with both of you.” He smiles softly, lost in thought. “Honestly, I’d be happier anywhere as long as it’s with you guys.” 

Lance screams into his palms, while even Keith falls over dramatically with his hands over his blue cheeks. “Daddy, stop!” “_Shiro you rat bastard._” 

“What?” He asks defensively. “And don’t swear in front of Keith, we’ve been over this.” 

From behind Lance’s hands, he hears a muffled, “Sorry.” 

“How about you Keith?” He steers them closer to the two other boats, keeping an eye on the shoreline coming closer every second. “What do you want to do?” 

Keith slowly sits up, humming with his eyes up on the starry sky. “I wanna be family.” He says firmly tilting his chin up. “I wanna everything with Daddy and Papi, go see fish and pet puppies and dance! Maybe Squid Marvin too.” He glances over at Romelle’s boat, like he could see the stuffed animal he gave her. “I happy with just Daddy and Papi.” 

Both of them crack at once. Lance scoops Keith up in his arms, blubbering a bit at how cute their baby boy is, while Shiro has to wipe away his tears. 

“I love you both of you.” He says unabashedly, full of so much emotion that he feels fit to burst. 

“I love you too!” Keith chirps in, finally being let down on his seat, where he shifts around with a bright smile. 

But Lance only swallows with blue cheeks, leaning over to reach out to him. “Shiro -” 

“Look out!” 

A while later, Shiro will realize it’s Coran who gave the warning, but as the lights shine on them, Shiro’s eyes only widen at the logo for border control written on the side of the ship.

_ Get down! _Lance yells, lunging forward and yanking both of them by the hoods backwards, right off the rim of the boat. All three of them hover over the edge, balanced precariously, before crashing into the surf and plunging them headfirst into the churning water, right as a hail of bullets rain down on all of them. 

Instantly, he loses track of everyone as he’s violently dragged down underneath the foaming water. Androids don’t float. 

Shiro kicks his legs out, glancing against something as error warnings blaring across his HUD as water floods into his systems, his processor struggling to filter out the sheer amount of liquid. Gunfire bombards into the white rapids around them, and Shiro spins in the water, calling out for his little one desperately. _ Keith! _

_ I no swim! _Keith frantically screams in his head, and he dives down into the murky depths away from the gunshots, catching the briefest glimpse of Keith’s striped sweater upside down before he reaches out for him, grabbing Keith’s knee and helping him reorient himself upward. 

_ Kick your feet as hard as you can. _ Lance orders sternly as he hovers anxiously right below the waterline, struggling to tread water. _ Both of you, now! You’ll freeze! _

Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s tiny waist, swimming as fast as he could, biocomponents straining as more error warnings crash into his HUD. Lance grabs his jacket when they get near the top, pulling him up until they burst out of the water and latch onto the side of the boat. 

“Is everyone okay?!” Shiro gasps wetly, water sputtering out of his systems. His regulator, unable to process anymore water, expels it forcefully out of his mouth until he’s violently puking it all out. Lance isn’t any better at his side, hair plastered to his head and the remains of the children’s book floating along next to him as he gags out the water. 

“‘M okay.” Keith whimpers, coughing out his own puddle of water. His small hands slip slightly, just enough that the water raises to his chin, and Shiro’s already letting go of the boat with one hand to hold him up. 

“I-I got hit.” Lance stutters out, eyes wide. Too wide. 

Shiro glances down. There’s thirium in the water. 

He scrambles up the boat frantically the ship leaves, hefting himself up with a strangled gasp before turning around to help Keith, then Lance. Once Keith’s sitting on the ledge, he turns to where Lance is standing cautiously in the middle of the boat, touching the hole in his shoulder with shaking fingers. 

Grabbing Lance’s bloody fingers, he forces them to interface and run a self diagnostic. “You didn’t hit any vital,” he says out loud, almost slumping with the sheer _ relief _running through him. “You’re gonna be fine, okay?” He grasps Lance’s upper arms, forcing them to make eye contact. “Okay?” 

Lance blinks slowly, obviously pulling himself out of shock. “O-okay.” 

_ I have one not fatal injury, boat two and three?! _Hunk shouts urgently on the short range channel. 

_ Lance in injured but nothing vital_. Shiro tries to report as factually as possible, smoothing his thumbs down Lance’s soaking wet inner arms. Lance smiles, tremblingly, but it’s better than nothing. 

_ Pidge is hurt really bad, she needs cauterization or she’s gonna bleed out. _Matt’s voice says, voice panicked as the call radiates with heightened tension. And she’s not going to be able to get that until they can cross to the other side, not with wind and cold like this. 

Water burbling distracts him, and he steps back, his breath hitching in his throat. Water sloshes against the ankles of his boots, splashing up as him and Keith share panicked eye contact as the little boy scrambles to his feet on top of the ledge 

Spinning around, he grabs Lance by the waist and easily swings him up to the ledge. “The boat is leaking!” 

“We’re too heavy.” Lance whimpers, dismayed. Then, louder: “Even if we accelerate, we’re gonna sink before we can get to the other side!” 

Lance whips his head over to the other two boats. _ We’re sinking! _

Kolivan’s voice is rough as they watch him and the others of the first boat climb out of the rapidly vanishing craft. _ Ours too. _

_ We’re still floating for now, but our boat will go down if we all get on and our engine is gone. _Colleen’s soft, frightened voice reminds them. It holds a thread of iron - telling them in no uncertain terms where her priorities are. And Lance knows that, if the way his eyes flick to Shiro’s gun. 

He nods, and Lance looks more relieved than he has words to say. If it comes to that, he’ll kill them, though he really, _ really _doesn’t want to. But his son is his priority, first and foremost. 

_ Keith can’t swim, he’ll drown! _ Lance denies, kneeling down on the ledge to hold Keith’s shoulders. “You okay _ nene_?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“Papi, I…” Keith shakes, hugging himself as he shivers violently with too slow blinks. “I so sleepy. Why…Why I so tired?” 

_“Nene,_ no.” Lance cries, shaking his head desperately. “It’s the cold, it’s making you sleepy. You can’t fall asleep, you’ll die if you fall asleep! You’ve got to stay awake, you hear me?!” 

Keith nods shallowly, eyes already slipping shut, but it’s enough for Shiro. He unzips his jacket, unclasping Keith’s hands and linking them around the nape of his neck, Lance taking over in rezipping his jacket up with the boy inside. 

_ The injured too, please. _Hunk pleads, grunting with the effort of towing somebody across the water. It might be Slav, but Shiro can’t tell past the panic swimming in his circulatory systems. 

“We’re not gonna die here.” Shiro promises lowly, sitting on the side of the boat with his legs dangling in the water. “Not when we’re this close.” 

_ …Fine, but hurry, Katie needs to get across! _

Lance sits next to him, both of them holding hands for just a moment, before nodding. 

They jump into the freezing water. 

**DANGER **

TEMPERATURE: **33.9° F**

-00:02:30 BEFORE **FREEZING **

Keith shudders, clinging to his neck tightly as Shiro awkwardly swims across the distance between the two boats, grabbing the rope along the side and pulling himself up, not resisting as Sam unzips his jacket to pull Keith out, who cries at the separation even as ice already clings to his wet clothes. 

“Lance, you too.” Sam orders, sitting Keith down next to Pidge, who’s splayed across the floor of the boat with her shirt pulled up, ripped pieces of cloth messily shoved into the bullet wounds in her stomach to stem the bleeding. 

“I’m fine, I’ll help push.” Lance waves aside, swimming next to Shiro as Hunk helps Slav up into the boat, who’s uncharacteristically silent as he clutches his injured hip, legs seemingly paralyzed. 

“Lance.” Shiro growls, but Lance shakes his head, already propping his hands up against the inflated plastic. Matt splashes down into the water next to him, teeth already chattering as he gets himself into position along with the rest of his non-injured family. 

“Push!” Kolivan yells, and they shove as hard as they can, heads bobbing in and out of the water. 

-00:02:00 BEFORE **FREEZING **

Shiro shivers, unable to stop himself as they wrack themselves up and down his spine. It’s so fucking cold, even if he can’t really feel it, he can still feel the iciness latch itself inside his torso, a death strangle around his thirium pump. 

BIOCOMPONENT #9782f **DAMAGED **

There’s shuffling from above him, and Keith pokes his head over the edge, eyes barely open as he rests the side of his forehead against the plastic, letting his arm dangle until his fingers graze Shiro’s white bangs.

-00:01:30 BEFORE **FREEZING **

Lance’s hand brushes against his, quietly whimpering to him in a voice not unlike watching the water pull away from the sand, warning bells ringing as you’re left standing on solid ground. _ It’s so cold, Shiro. Is this what pain feels like? I’m so cold. _

BIOCOMPONENT #0351K **DAMAGED**

“Thank you, Daddy.” Keith whispers quietly, voice almost lost to the screaming wind as he holds the red lion toy with stiff fingers. “With Papi and Daddy, I feel like real boy. I went to fair, play so many games, new shoes and toys and book.” His eyes flutter, frost clinging to his eyelashes. “Every…day so much…fun.”

BIOCOMPONENT #2657g **DAMAGED**

“Please,” he chokes, pushing harder. “Baby, you have to…” Shiro can’t finish the sentence without water entering his mouth, thirium coating his tongue. But it’s not his. 

BIOCOMPONENT #1216b **DAMAGED **

_ So cold… _Lance’s voice is getting quieter, fingers slowly drifting down the back of his palm, a trail of blue oil following him. 

-00:01:00 BEFORE **FREEZING **

Keith smiles, eyes closing. “I go bed time now, okay? I wish me and Papi and Daddy play again soon…Night night.” 

BIOCOMPONENT #7511p **DAMAGED**

Lance’s hands quietly slip off the boat, head sliding beneath the surface of the water. 

BIOCOMPONENT #1995r **DAMAGED**

His arm goes limp. 

-00:00:30 BEFORE **FREEZING **

Their connection is silent. 

:::

Lance’s head sways with every step, feet dangling over Shiro’s forearm as his face remains lax, almost as if he was asleep. But androids don’t sleep. Even Keith doesn’t really sleep, for all they call it that. 

Shiro staggers across the sand, tears blurring his vision as he collapses next to where Keith is already laid down, eyes closed with the traces of a smile still stubbornly clinging on. Gently, he cups the back of Lance’s head, setting him down right next to their son with a muffled sob. 

There’s only a slim chance of it working, but he bundles them up to his chest as he lays over them anyhow, closing his eyes tightly as he powers on his thirium pump as high as it will go, overheating be damned. 

“We made it,” he whispers, brushing Keith’s hair back affectionately. He loves this little boy so much, in a way that Lance would teasingly call _ obsessive_, but all he wants is to keep that bright smile going forever. “Baby, look, we made it.” 

He sniffs, smiling through his tears. “You did so well honey, I’m so proud of you.” Has it really only been a couple of days since both of them set out from Sendak’s apartment with the blood still cooling in his hair? So much has happened, so many truths he had to face about himself and secrets he tried to hide away from the world.

Kissing Keith’s forehead gently, he draws back slowly, eyes still searching Keith’s face. He’s so cold, there’s ice clinking in his wet hair, on his clothes and his stuffed lion still stubbornly in his hand. 

His baby’s so cold. Even Lance is freezing, a thin layer of ice sealing off the hole in his shoulder. His Lance, someone who he can’t define beyond a relationship of ‘co-parent’. He loves him though, loves the way his eyes crease when he laughs, the press of his smaller fingers against his, the way every move seems like he’s dancing, his dry humor, the way even when he’s upset he tries so hard to comfort others, the stunning way he looks at the world instead of the ugly thing Shiro sees it as. 

“You’re both okay.” He vows, rocking them both back and forth as he pushes their heads into his shoulders. “Please, you’re gonna be okay. Y-You’re not…You’re fine.” 

Shiro’s breath stutters in his chest. “Don’t leave me,” he begs brokenly, squeezing them tightly against his chest. “Please don’t leave me all alone.” 

He can’t - not _ without his family, please - this world isn’t worth living in - _

Crying, he bends over, utterly wretched. His chest feels too tight, it’s like the days after Keith’s drowning all over again, but a thousand times magnified, he’s a raw wire snapping apart. 

Please be enough, please let his own heat be enough, please he can’t do this without them - 

“Daddy…?” 

Shiro’s thirium pump pounds in his chest. 

Keith rubs his eyes, squinting up at him tired violet eyes. “We…there yet?” 

He laughs painfully, like the very sound was torn out of him. He opens his mouth to answer, only to feel a hand much bigger than Keith’s lightly sleepily pat his cheek.

“_Some _of us are trying to sleep, you pine tree.” Lance grumbles, eyes still closed. Then they fling open. “Wait. We don’t sleep. Shiro?” 

Shiro can only laugh, heart wrenching sobs tearing out of his chest as he cradles them against his chest. “You’re okay, _ you’re okay_.” 

Keith hums, hugging him back weakly. Lance takes a few more moments, but he eventually slides his arms around his back, holding him gently like he’s something likable to break. 

“We’re not leaving you, remember?” Lance breathes in his ear, nuzzling their cheeks together gently. “We made a promise, for our forever.” 

Shiro squeezes his eyes shut, nodding slowly. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

Lance squeeze on the nape of his neck right over his port, almost…warningly. Hint taken, he powers down his pump back into normal levels, slowly sitting up with them still in his arms. 

For the first time, he glances away from his loved ones in his arms towards the small crowd on the beach. Romelle is cuddled between Slav and Kolivan, huddling for warmth, all three of them looking drained and half frozen even as tired smiles linger on their faces. Matt huddles on the ground, shivering into himself as Hunk and the rest of his family work on Pidge. But Sam, when he catches them looking, gives them the okay sign. Pidge will be fine. 

Everyone made it out. 

They’re okay. 

His lips twitch, the smile growing and growing until he’s pulling Keith against his chest and kissing all over his face. “Baby boy, look.” He exhales against his wet hair, pointing towards the bright lights through the den of trees. “We made it. We’re free, now.” 

Lance laughs this time, tears clinging to his eyes as he slowly stands up. “I don’t know what it means to be free.” He admits quietly, eyes on the towering buildings they can just barely see of Windsor, Canada. 

“That okay.” Keith says matter of factly, climbing to his feet until Shiro is the only one left kneeling on the ground. “We learn with Papi too, new promise!” 

“A new promise, huh?” Lance asks himself quietly, wiping his tears away with a small, almost private smile. He holds out a hand for Shiro to drag himself up, tilting his head expectantly. 

Shiro takes his slender hand, pulling himself to his feet, but he hesitates for a moment. “May I?” He murmurs deeply , and Lance’s eyes widen. 

Then they crease up with a beaming smile. “You may.” 

He lunges, sweeping Lance up into his arms by his waist, spinning them around in circles. Lance squeaks, clinging on to Shiro’s shoulders for dear life, before he starts to giggle, setting their foreheads together as they come to a slow stop. “May I?” Lance whispers to him, fingertips gracefully trailing along his cheek. 

“You may.” He says back just as quietly, without a moment’s hesitation. 

Lance kisses him then, cradling his face like he’s something precious to hold while Shiro squeezes his waist, deepening the kiss with a pleased hum. He strokes his thumbs over the curve of his hips, tilting his head up eagerly into Lance’s caresses down his face and his neck - 

Something smacks into his leg. 

Both of them break the kiss with a trail of cleaning fluid connecting their mouths, the trail snapping as both of them whip their heads down. 

Keith’s entire face is curdled up like he just ate motor oil, wielding his lion toy like a baseball bat, and Shiro has the uncomfortable realization at the exact same time as Lance that Keith just saw them eat each other’s faces in excruciating detail. “Um, baby -” 

“No.” Keith says flatly. Okay, that works too. 

Gently, he sets Lance down on the ground, both of their faces lit up in almost neon blue. “You’re a good kid, _ nene._” Lance says weakly, leaning into Shiro’s side when the other android picks the toddler up and props him on his hip. 

“I know.” Keith brushes the compliment off with blue ears, reaching out for Lance to hold him too, which Lance happily obliges. “I love you, Papi, Daddy.” 

“And we,” Lance taps his nose playfully, even if there’s a bright sheen to his eyes. “Love you too. More than you know.” 

Keith wrinkles up his nose, but he laughs all the same, raising his hand up to catch the falling snowflakes. For all the snow on the ground from the frost season, none of them have seen actually drift down soundlessly from the dark sky. 

“So pretty…” He smiles breathtakingly, cupping it in his palms. “Papi, drawing?” 

Lance’s face contorts. “_Nene, _I’m sorry, the water destroyed it and the book…” 

Keith blinks, mulling over it for a few moments. “That okay.” He decides, grinning at both of them brightly. “I just draw new one!” 

Lance bites his lip, hiding his face into Shiro’s chest as he tries not to cry. “I already thought I was the happiest I could ever be.” He chokes out, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye. “And then _ this _has to happen.” 

“No cry Papi, no cry.” Keith comforts, a little confused but he has the spirit, while Shiro just rubs his back, crooning comforting sounds. 

“We’ll just have to keep making you happier everyday, huh?” Shiro prompts, kissing the crown of Keith’s head while the little boy keeps patting Lance’s face. 

Lance tries to glare, but he keeps having to wipe his happy tears away, smile bright enough to illuminate a thousand planets. “Asshole.” He mumbles so Keith doesn’t hear it, bumping their hips together pointedly. 

“You love me for it.” He teases, only for Lance to look up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears but full of _ love. _

“More than you know.” Lance repeats, reaching up to kiss his cheek softly. They smile at each other when Lance draws back, cupping Keith’s face and dropping kisses all along the bridge of his nose, only for Shiro to join in until Keith is a giggly mess between them.

And as the beams of Shay’s car cuts into the den of trees, Shiro can only hold his loved ones close to him, for the first time in his life looking forward to the days stretching ahead of them, together. 

They made it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that's left is a short epilogue guys, oh my god. I can't thank everybody enough!!
> 
> (I have a thing for people picking Lance up and swinging him around if you haven't noticed) Ngl, my favorite part of the chapter is when the boat is flooding and Shiro just picks Lance up. Just. Picks him up. Like it's nothing. My thirst is showing. 
> 
> The pining is over folks!! They finally kissed!!! I hate writing kissing scenes, mostly because I never know how to describe them?? I hope I did okay??? Also I'm just now realizing that this story takes place over the course of five days, it seems so short but also so much has happened. 
> 
> I also need to finish the bad endings, I'm so behind. To be fair, I've also been insanely busy and this is the only writing project I can eek out time for, occasionally Marigolds if I'm lucky. 
> 
> One chapter left! See you next time!


	19. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five months later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna cry holy shit!! Last chapter!!
> 
> https://anawriteshorror.tumblr.com/post/190435293394/rough-sketches-of-keith-from-music-box-i-love-my Some quick sketches I did of Keith btw! I love my baby boy so much, hehe.

Date: 6th MAR, 2039

Time: AM 6:58:32

“Daddy! Papi!” A warm weight slams across the bed, wiggling across their blankets and crawling up the bed to pat at heir faces. “Morning!” 

Shiro groans, throwing his arm over his head. “_Your _son is awake.” Damn, they were just getting to the good part of the video game, he was really liking into Sophie’s character development. 

“Before sunrise, he’s _ your _ son.” Lance retorts dryly, eyes still closed as he saves their game progress. It’s one of the few games that the interface is so tough that they can’t hack it as easy as breathing - and thus why it’s such a hit for androids to play. They actually have to _ play _instead of skipping all the uninteresting scenes in favor of making every enemy look like an avocado. 

Shiro thinks it’s novel. Lance calls it boring. 

“It sunrise!” Keith defends, lying down in between them with a small pout. 

“Just because the sun rose at exactly 6:58 on your radar and it took you thirty seconds to get here doesn’t mean it’s actually sunrise.” He scolds lightly, slinging an arm over both of them. “It’s still dark out, honey, so we can’t go out and play just yet.”

The toddler wilts so sadly it’s almost funny. 

Lance, because for all his hardassery is just a giant softie on the inside, coos softly and flicks on his night vision, illuminating the room in a quiet sheen of blue. “Do you want to exercise with me then before we get ready _ nene_? The mall doesn’t open till eight anyhow.”

Keith brightens at the idea of playing with Lance, before drooping at the reminder that they can’t leave for at least another forty minutes, so Shiro sweetens the deal. Literally. “I still have some of the Valentines candy Nyma gave us, if you want some.” 

“Okay!” Bright and chipper as always, Keith wiggles out from underneath Shiro’s arm. “I get dressed!” He still slurs the ‘r’ consonant, but it’s so muted that Shiro can barely hear it. 

Honerva made it so Keith would have limited growth - not no growth at all. It just takes him a little longer, that’s all. 

“Do you need help?” He calls after his son, not surprised at all by Keith’s loud squawk of, “_NO!_” 

Lance pats his arm consolingly. “It’s just a stage love, I’m sure he’ll be over it soon.” 

Without tearing his thousand mile stare away from the ceiling over his brief flash of parental grief, he reaches over and smacks Lance’s thigh. Lance, being the little shit that he is, fake moans and bats his eyelashes at him. “_Oh_? Are you gonna punish me for being a brat?” 

Shiro just stares, unimpressed. “You _ would _ like that,” he deadpans, and is rewarded by Lance generous blue blush. 

Lance tumbles out of the bed, landing like a beached whale on his ass with all the attitude of someone who totally meant to do that. “I’m leaving now.”

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter,” he says wryly, both of them hearing Keith’s loud footsteps stomping down the hallway towards them. 

The toddler slams through the door, beaming from ear to ear in a turtleneck and shorts, the long penguin ears from his hat Lance knitted for him swinging around his face. “Papi, we play now!”

“Yes, yes.” Lance laughs good naturedly, waving goodbye to Shiro as Keith drags him out of the room still in his pajamas. Shiro finally closes down the game hovering in the corner of his HUD, sitting up with a loud huff to their partially painted blue room, since at this point finishing remodeling even one room is a luxury that he doesn’t dare dream about. 

He gets dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, yanking on a light weight jacket they shoplifted from a high end store and the scarf Lance made him for Christmas. As he walks downstairs, he makes a quick pitstop to turn off their wood burning stove that heats the upstairs - and Keith’s bedroom - while the little boy sleeps. 

The stairs creak loudly as Shiro trudges down them, even though they literally replaced the boards last week. Add it to the list of endless reno projects. “I hope you haven’t killed your Papi just yet, Keith, we still need him alive to finish painting the ceiling.”

“I resent the implication that you don’t like what I did with the extra paint.” Lance kicks back his leg from where he’s doing yoga effortlessly, sticking his tongue out at him as Keith wobblingly copies him. 

Shiro raises an eyebrow, pointedly looking at the bright yellow ceiling. It’s certainly…something. And was a bitch to get out of his hair - in the end he had to literally let the synthetic strands disconnect and grow some new ones in the span of a couple of seconds, giving him the chance to play around with the different color options. Lance dared him to be an old man and keep it white, so Shiro in return dared him to stop licking cookie batter at three am. 

And that’s the story of how he had white hair for two months before Lance finally broke and tried to sneak out while Shiro was in stasis for a software update. Luckily, he knew Lance would try that, so he had Keith in the wings with silly string and permission to go nuts. 

They’re no longer allowed to have silly string either. It took four days to clean all of it up. 

“I like.” Keith defends, slowly following Lance’s practiced moves. “Look like sun.” 

Shiro purses his mouth. “Well, it’s bright like the sun, that’s for sure.” He walks past them casually, ruffling Keith’s hair as he eyes the couch haphazardly placed in the middle of the downstairs. They’ve been meaning to move it now that the ceiling by the front door was finished drying, but at that point Keith was restless and had to burn off some energy playing tag before he imploded. 

“Don’t you dare,” Lance interrupts his thoughts, quirking his brow at him from where he’s in the downward dog position. Shiro allows his eyes to drift for a moment at the very appealing arch of his body, and by Lance’s cocky smirk, he’s noticed. 

Shiro takes a quick snapshot anyhow, saving it to his memory banks with the idea of maybe sketching it out. Two hundred years is a long time when none of them need to eat or even sleep that much, it's good to pick up some hobbies. 

Keith’s given up on doing yoga - instead, he’s crawled under Lance’s arms and lays underneath him, poking his nose until Lance goes cross eyed every time Lance lowers himself, bursting into laughter every time it happens. 

“As I was saying,” Lance says loudly over Keith’s laughter. “I’m almost done, I’ll help you move the couch in just a minute. We don’t want the old man dislocating his shoulder joint, huh _ nene_?” 

Shiro groans. “It was _ one _time, and that wasn’t my fault.” 

“Uh huh.” Keith hums, not at all believing. “Daddy, I help?” He wiggles out from underneath Lance, unbalancing the technically younger android (and didn't Lance throw a fit when it came out that Keith was commissioned two years before Lance was) and sending him flat on his stomach. Shiro felt no sympathy for him. 

“Sure thing bud.” Shiro crouches down, easily lifting the little boy in his arms. “Do you want to be the captain?”

Keith nods eagerly, giggling as Shiro sets him down on the center of the couch. Lance stretches as he walks around to the other side of the couch, some of the tension leaving him after his daily yoga session. Just like Shiro’s runs, it doesn’t really do anything for them physically, but the repetitive movement calms them, the world narrowed down to their breathes and the world under their fingertips. 

“Okay, on three.” Lance chimes as Shiro grabs the opposite end, blowing a small kiss to his lover. “One, two, -”

“Three!” Keith yells. 

Lance sighs endearingly, but picks it up on Keith’s cue anyhow, both of them grunting as they lift it up into the air. Keith flails in the middle, giggling hysterically as he’s tossed around the cushions until they set it back down against the now dry wall. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” Lance shakes his head, kissing Shiro’s cheek as he walks past him towards the stairs. “I need to get dressed, watch the feral child?” 

Keith’s reply of “‘M not feral!” goes ignored as Shiro nods his head, squeezing Lance’s hand gently. 

“We’ll be here.”

Lance caresses the back of his palm with a soft expression, before turning on his heel to head back upstairs. Shiro watches him go for a long moment, shaking his head with a smile. 

“C’mon, kiddo.” He holds out his hand, waiting for Keith to scramble off the couch and take it. “Let’s go have some of those candies you like so much.”

Keith grins up at him, slipping his small hand in his. “Sour, sour, sweet and sour…” Keith sings under his breath as Shiro leads them into the half dismantled kitchen, swinging him up to sit on the counter. It was falling apart when they moved into the house, and it’s not like any of them used it to store anything besides the occasional snack to suck on so it's been put on the back burner while they focus on other projects. 

Shiro pops open the bag of candy Nyma gave them as a joke gift that backfired when she realized they were actually dating, not just pining, passing Keith a handful. “But that’s it, buddy.” He warns, already placing the small trash bin next to Keith on the counter. “The last thing we need is to overwork your processor.” 

“That okay.” Comes Keith’s muffled voice under the candy shoved in his mouth. His eyes crease up happily, humming loudly as he sucks on the sour candy. After a minute, he spits the now white candy back out into the trash, grinning up at Shiro. “Want too?’ 

He shrugs. “Why not?” Grabbing a few, he pops them in his mouth, rolling them around his new taste buds - thank you Shay. They’re not perfect, of course, and while he can get a decent flavor profile, it’s nothing like Keith’s officially made ones or Hunk’s from when Shay had a stable job and a lot more tools available. All of them had them installed a couple weeks into crossing the border, because Shay had the basics lying around her brother's and they were all bored anyhow, but Lance loves his new tastebuds to death, so he won't say a word against them. He’s saved a couple hundred photos of Lance trying out new food and drinks into his memory bank, so it’s worth it, but it’s also created the Cookie Dough Incident. 

After sucking on it for a few more moments, he pulls it out of his mouth and into the trash bin. “You excited to go to the mall today?” He asks cheerfully, helping Keith down from the counter. 

“Yep!” Keith nods eagerly, bouncing on his brand new sneakers. Then he stops, looking up at Shiro in concern. “You excite too, right?” 

Shiro’s lips quirk. “Yes, I’m excited too, don’t worry.” 

“But I’m most excited, so _ there_.” Lance flounces down the stairs, butting in on the tail end of their conversation. Despite the cold weather outside, he’s forgone all attempts at blending in to humans and instead wears a yellow short sleeve top with overalls tucked over it. The bottoms are all rolled up around his ankles, showcasing his bright red high tops and striped socks. There’s sunglasses over his hair pushing his bangs back.

He’s adorable.

“What?” Lance asks at Shiro’s stare. “I’m tired of wearing sweaters all the damn time, I have cute clothes and I want to show them off.” 

“You’re cute.” Shiro blurts out. Shit. 

Lance blushes blue, jerking his head away to stare at the opposite wall. “Shut it.” He mumbles shyly, fiddling anxiously with the embroidery over his pockets. They’ve been lovers for months now and still Lance takes his breath away (literally, pulmonary systems stop failing out on him he _ knows _how heart-stopping beautiful he is already) almost every single day. 

Keith just sighs. Deeply. 

:::

“You got this, hon.” Shiro reassures, holding Keith’s small hand between his own as he skates next to him. “Just one foot in front of the other, push a little bit - like that!” 

Keith smiles quickly, eyes stuck on his rented shoes. “Papi?” He calls, having not heard his voice in a while. 

“Right here, _ nene_.” Lance answers, ice skating backwards past them with his sunglasses pulled over his eyes. Shiro has come to the realization that Lance is just like that™. “Wow, you guys sure are slow. Are we sure you’re not related to a sloth?” He teases, casually putting his arms behind his head. 

Shiro slowly glances over at the toddler holding his hand. Yep. Keith’s pissed. 

Keith slows to a stop, narrowing his eyes at Lance. “Daddy,” he deadpans. “Attack.” 

Lance’s amusement drops off his face. “Wait, no no, Shiro don’t do it, Shiro stop I don’t want to die - _ aagh - _” 

The beep of the intercom interrupts their tussling. “_The family over there, with the dad with the sunglasses._ _You know the rules, play nice or get off the ice._” 

“I’m terribly sorry,” Lance yells to the man glaring at them, half of his face pressed into the ice rink. “I made the unfortunate choice of being in love with a brute who gets off on hurting me.” 

Shiro digs his elbow into the small of Lance’s back pointedly. “Thanks Remdax!” He says cheerfully, brightly ignoring Lance’s sheer look of horror as he realizes that Shiro knows the guy. “Tell Vakala he owes me after I busted him out of jail last Thursday.” If that doesn’t earn him weird looks, he doesn’t know what will.

Lance grumbles, taking Shiro’s hand to help himself up. “How do you know him anyhow?” 

Keith wobbles up to Shiro’s side, taking his hand with a satisfied expression that Lance’s punishment has been meted out. “Monsters and manahah.” He tries to explain. It’s mana, but close enough. 

Lance’s expression clears. “Ah, your dungeons and dragons game.” 

Now it’s Shiro’s turn to grumble. “It’s different from D&D and you know it.” It’s not like Lance doesn’t join in on quite a few sessions anyways. He’s just pouting because after four sessions with ‘Pike’ flirting with every single female NPC Coran could make, ‘Jiro’ talked to _ one _male NPC and Lance pouted in the yard for three hours straight. 

Rax called them disgustingly in love and told them to get out of his house. Shay gently suggested they go to marriage counseling for jealousy, despite Lance having a literal built in marriage coaching program. Pidge and Matt thought it was the funniest shit and caught the entire thing on their video memory, but luckily Sam and Colleen declined playing after single-handedly one-shotting the final boss of Coran’s dungeon and making Coran, the _ DM_, rage quit the session before. Hunk laughed and tried to comfort Lance while giggling nonstop, and Romelle just awkwardly patted Shiro’s head, unsure of just what was even happening. Slav gave them the number of universes which they’re not together, which is actually a pretty high number, and made Lance pout even harder, and Kolivan just stared at them with judgement in his eyes. Keith, luckily, was asleep through the whole thing.

“Yes, yes.” Lance brushes off easily, because he’s a sore loser, and instead does a lazy circle around them. “Is that how you got the free tickets? I was wondering about that, since we’re kinda broke.”

Shiro helps Keith awkwardly slide forward, keeping a reassuring hand on his back. “And who’s fault is that?”

Lance whines, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “We’re supposed to be starting over! Be good guys and keep our transactions clean, all of that goody good stuff.”

“You bludgeoned a guy to death two hours after we crossed the border with a rock.” Shiro deadpans.

“It was in self defense! He spotted Kolivan’s freaky glowing eyes, okay, I had no choice! Who even goes for nightly strolls at barely above freezing anyhow?”

“For our one month anniversary, you broke into the city council in the middle of the night and stole me the deeds to a former crack house in the middle of nowhere, broke into the _ library_, printed out the paperwork, and then folded them into origami roses before having Keith give them to me in a t-shirt with sharpie ‘I win this round’ written on it.”

Lance puffs his chest up, looking rather proud of that one. “I got you a _ house_, who else can say that?”

Well, he’s not _ wrong_. Too bad Shiro’s getting them a dog for their sixth month anniversary, so either Lance will pout some more or be too excited to care that Shiro’s totally winning this round of anniversaries.

Hunk and Shay awkwardly told them, with a tad bit of concern, that anniversaries are not competitions. It may not be, but Shiro’s _ winning _ so who cares?

Keith glances up at their argument curiously, and with a thin note of annoyance. “‘M trying to skate!”

Shiro opens his mouth to apologize, but Keith isn’t done. “Daddy, why you and Papi no marry already?!”

He freezes. Lance falls flat on his ass. Keith, his innocent little angel, the light of his life, what makes the world turn, huffs and skates on ahead of them. “No talk ‘bout winning till I see ring.” He calls over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at them. 

_ Keith: 1; Shiro and Lance: 0 _is all he’s able to think about, feeling like the equivalent of an old Microsoft error sound. Lance stares at his knees, face a cute shade of azure as he laughs nervously. 

“He's not serious, right?” Lance asks, voice way too high-pitch like the day they came home after shoplifting Keith's new wardrobe to Nyma on their couch in only her underwear and a shit ton of human blood. They still haven't gotten the whole story out of her, nor the blood stains. 

Shiro shrugs, still feeling himself trying to emotionally reboot. Lance groans, trying to kick him with his _ bladed shoe_, before the voice barks on the intercom to “_Shiro! Control your damn husband or I’m kicking all three of you off the ice!_” Because that _ helps. _

Yeah, it’s about time they get off anyhow, right?

It takes some coaxing, and he’s not too proud to admit it, but some bribing too, but eventually they manage to get Keith off the ice and back into his sneakers. The toddler snuggles in Shiro’s arms, tucking his head underneath the heavy fabric of the scarf and blowing a gust of cold air on his neck. Never say that he isn’t vindictive when he feels like it. 

“We still have another half hour to kill before the previews start.” Lance comments, flicking his gaze up to the top left, obviously checking the time. “Wanna hang by a bookstore for a little bit?” 

Shiro shrugs. “That works with me. Kiddo?” 

Keith pokes his head out of the scarf, both of their heads pressed together almost uncomfortably tight with the fabric snug around their necks. “Books! Books, books, books.” He sings, nuzzling their foreheads together. Shiro’s lips quirk up, and he presses a butterfly kiss to his cheek lovingly, beaming at his son’s delighted giggles. 

No matter what Keith pulls, he’s still the cutest thing to walk the planet. Ever. 

Lance sighs lovingly at them, tucking a strand of Keith’s hair behind his ear. “It’s a good thing you’re cute.” He bemoans quietly, and Keith grins smugly. 

“I cute.” He chirps knowingly, brightening up when they step into the bookstore. “Daddy, Daddy down!” 

Shiro sighs, gently untangling them before putting Keith down on his feet. “You know the rules! Stay close to either me or Lance, if anyone talks to you scream and call us for help, and you get overwhelmed by the noise just let us know.” 

Keith glances up at him longsufferingly. “Yes, yes.” He says in a pitch perfect imitation of Lance’s voice, before waddling off to the kid’s section and crouching down in front of the row of brightly covered books. 

Lance squawks. “I don’t sound like that!” 

“You kinda do.” Shiro says only mildly judgmentally and ignores Lance subsequent screech. He takes a booth near the entrance, where he could keep an eye on Keith and still see the majority of the store, and shoos Lance away. “Go, have fun. I’ll save our seats for you.” 

Lance groans, but leans down and kisses the tip of his nose anyhow. “Okay, okay, I’ll be right back. Hunk recommended a good book series and told me I should read it paperback to get the ‘full experience’.” 

Shiro waves him off, idly picking up a pamphlet someone left behind. “Yes, yes.” He teases, blowing a kiss to his lover, who only rolls his eyes and flips him off before heading over to the adult fiction section. 

It’s not a long wait until Keith comes back with a hard covered book in his hands, crawling up into the booth next to him and laying his head down in Shiro’s lap. He blinks, automatically running his fingers through Keith’s hair. “You doing okay, bud?” 

Keith nods slowly, thumbing along the thick print pages. “Read?” He requests, and Shiro smiles softly. 

“Of course.” He obliges, flipping to the first page about a stuffed little bear trying to reclaim his lost button. Keith snuggles into his thigh while he reads aloud, sometimes humming along to parts, but mostly staying quiet. Sometime midway through the book, Lance takes the seat across from them, opening up his own book and leaning against the wall with a small smile.

When they near the end of the book, Keith opens his eyes, smiling up at Shiro. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, honey?” Shiro tickles the port of the nape of his nape, eliciting a precious laugh.

“I love you.” Keith sing songs, squeezing Shiro’s waist with a small smile. Shiro blushes, lips quirking up as he gently presses Keith’s forehead into his stomach.

“And I love you too.” Shiro vows quietly, curling around the little boy tucked into his lap. There's nothing in the world that he cares about more than the child in his arms, it could all fade away and turn to ashes, and as long as he had Keith, it would be okay. “So incredibly much.”

Lance’s foot nudges into his own, and without thinking twice about it, Shiro links their ankles together. “You two are so cute.” Lance coos at them, propping his head up on his hands with an indulgent smile. 

“Don’t worry, I love you as well.” Shiro winks at him, delighting in the almost neon shade crawling up Lance’s cheeks.

“…Me too.” Lance mumbles after a moment, not meeting his eyes. He hides his mouth behind his hands, flicking his eyes over to Shiro, before losing his nerve and glancing back at the book in front of him. “We should, um, we should head over to the theater soon. If we wanna see the previews.”

Shiro nods, closing Keith’s book and handing it back to his little one. “Shay said it’s part of the experience, though I gotta day I didn’t expect our first movie to be a Marvin the Squid sequel.”

“Squid Marvin great!” Keith defends, slinking down from the seat to put his book back. “Need candy too.”

“Already got it _ nene_.” Lance pats his pocket, smiling despite himself as they watch Keith scurry towards the bookshelves. “You know, when I was with Allura and Lotor,” Shiro jerks at those names, but Lance doesn’t even look at him, the traces of a smile still clinging on as he watches Keith puts the book back with a look of severe concentration. “I never guessed I would end up as a father and in love.” 

Shiro reaches across the table, his skin fading back. “Is that bad?” He asks quietly.

Lance looks away from Keith, face gentling as he takes Shiro’s hand, both of them interfacing quietly. “No,” he says, like a revelation. “No, I, I think I’m finally_ happy_.”

Emotions pass through the connection, soft and light like the first time they saw the sun rise safe in Canada. They smile at each other over their joined hands, reveling in this connection, of an intimate sort of knowing being cradled in each other's thoughts and feelings. 

Something shuffles next to him, and Keith pokes his head over the table, narrowing his eyes at their pale hands. Then he reaches over, placing his small one over theirs.

Keith’s emotions are like a bulldozer - he feels everything so intensely, every up and down is an extreme, and even now, as he joins the two of them in sharing emotions, it’s so incredibly vibrant that Shiro can only smile, tears in his eyes as Keith swarms them with sheer amounts of _ affection-happiness-good_.

Above their heads, on the small TV tucked away in the corner, the caption over the smiling reporter reads _ Android rights case reach Canada’s Supreme Court after unanimous victory in America. _

:::

The hammock is one of the few pieces of furniture they have up, strung between two trees in the massive backyard. That’s why Lance chose the property, Shiro knows - the backyard is something all three of them dreamed about, only seen before in TV shows and magazine catalogs. 

Shiro relaxes into the thick fabric, closing his eyes and just listening to Lance’s humming from the kitchen as he practices cooking for Shay and Rax’s grandmother. She’s fallen ill recently, and considering she harbored at one point over twenty android fugitives in her basement, they all owe her their lives. The three of them spent two months crammed together on a mattress on the floor among countless others as the US was torn into disarray, all of their gazes stuck on the small TV Rax brought down so they would stop sitting on the stairs to try and get peeks at the one in the living room. 

It’s something both Lance and Shiro talked about extensively - whether they should return to America now that androids were legally considered living beings. Of course, there’s still issues, like there still being no anti-discrimination laws and it’s illegal for them to own weapons, but they could have citizenship and do things legally, like actually buy a house and have real IDs.

But in the end, they decided to stay in Canada - because Keith’s happy here. He hasn’t said as much, but he loves all the free space to run around and the kids events they have at the community center every weekend, and Lance has been trying to convince Shiro to try and put Keith in a daycare when they have money so he could have socialization besides them. Lance's looking at getting a job with Nyma at the restaurant she works at, mostly because of the irony, but Shiro is vehement about being a stay home dad, _maybe _having a job if he can bring Keith along. Yeah, they're still working on both of their separation anxieties. 

Another reasons for staying in Canada, partially, is because both of them are still wanted for murder. 

Sendak’s body was eventually discovered when he didn’t show up to work for over a week, and the blame was correctly pinned on Shiro after Honerva’s files went public. And while Allura survived, the knowledge wasn’t made public - Lance searches her online sometimes, Shiro knows, but she’s far enough away back in England and keeps a quiet enough life that she was initially marked as one of the deceased.

Speaking of Lance, Shiro thinks as he hears the back door open, footsteps padding down the stairs and over to where he’s lost in thought in the hammock.

“Hey, do you wanna fuck me?” Lance asks.

Shiro chokes. 

“I guess you don’t have to fuck me.” Lance muses, but before Shiro can be relieved, he continues. “I can fuck you instead, if you prefer that.”

He sputters, yanking himself up to stare at Lance wide-eyed. “Uh.” He manages to say, completely blown away by this entire conversation. “Just - give me a sec.”

A second turns into over two minutes while Shiro desperately tries to get his thoughts together. Eventually, he finds enough composure to clear his throat and meet Lance’s eyes. “Where did this come from?”

Lance scratches the back of his neck, tracing figures in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “I don’t know, it’s just…I need to do something nice for you.”

Shiro runs his hand through his hair, blowing out a sigh. “You don’t need to _ do _ anything for me, darling, I’m happy as we are.” He really is - there’s nothing more he could want, except maybe for the roof to stop leaking over the upstairs bathroom.

“But I want to!” Lance clenches his fists by his side, and it would be more convincing if he didn’t look sick at just the thought of sex. “You’ve done so much for me, you’ve given me a home and a family and helped me in ways you have no idea about.” He opens his hands, starting at his own palms with something lost in his eyes. “I…I just want to repay you somehow.”

He takes a couple of breaths, knowing that this is a serious issue and he needs to tread carefully. “All those things I’ve given you? You’ve given me too. We don’t owe each other anything - except to stay a good dad to Keith. I’m happy with whatever affection you can comfortably give me.” Lance opens his mouth, but Shiro steamrolls over it. “And I can’t even feel sexual attraction, remember?”

Lance deflates, hugging himself tightly. “Can I sit next to you?” He asks weakly, and Shiro nods, already moving over so Lance could climb next to him on the hammock. 

Both of them lay down, staring up at the bright blue early spring sky. From the house, he can hear the creak of the pipes, the quiet noise of the cable TV, Keith’s murmuring to himself as he plays with his toys.

“Would you ever want to have sex with me?” Lance asks quietly, fingers skidding along the back of Shiro’s hand. Shiro flips his hand over, curling his fingers over Lance’s own ones drawing shapes on the skin of his palm.

“Would _ you _ever want to?” Shiro asks instead, tenderly running his thumb along Lance’s knuckles. 

Lance swallows, blinking rapidly up at the bright sky. “I don’t know.” He whispers. “Maybe…maybe someday. It would be nice, to be that intimately close to you. But,” he shudders, squeezing Shiro’s palm. “I…I don’t think right now. Not anytime soon. I’m still - I couldn’t -”

“It’s okay.” Shiro shushes, tapping their heads together gently. “The only thing I want is for you to be happy.”

Lance musters up a trembling smile, glancing up at him through his eyelashes. “I love you, Shiro.”

Shiro reaches up with his other hand, stroking Lance’s cheek softly. “As I you.”

Both of them smile at each other, exhaling against each other’s mouths for one long, soft movement before Lance draws back. “Our little hellspawn is missing us.”

Sure enough, there’s footsteps on the barely standing back porch, before small hands pull at the edge of the hammock. “Papi, Daddy, I found you!”

Lance gasps dramatically, rolling over as gently as possible and pulling the cloth down so Keith could see them. “You did, huh? Way to go _ nene_!”

Keith giggles, crawling up into the hammock with them. “I watching TV and then you gone, so I go searching for you, and boo-boo.” He shows the cut on his thumb, blue blood beading at the tip, and both him and Lance wince in tandem. 

“Let me guess, you went into the library?” Keith nods at Lance’s question, and both of their wince again. The room, which they actually have no idea what the original purpose was and decided to just call the library, was completely destroyed and they’ve barely managed to make it a somewhat walkable area. Eventually, Shiro has plans for making it into a play room, but that's a project after they get the rest of the house under control. 

“How about we don’t go in the library anymore, okay?” Shiro pulls the little boy over them, keeping an eye on his cut as it slowly heals itself. They’re being careful about getting wounded, since getting thirium across the border is next to impossible and they’re incapable of synthesizing their own blood. 

Keith shrugs, popping his thumb in his mouth the instant the metal closed over and licking the blue blood off. “Wha?” He mumbles past his thumb at their looks. “Pretty.” 

Shiro laughs hoarsely, tucking Keith’s head underneath his chin. “That it is, kiddo. I was just thinking about when you kept trying to lick my blood of Lance’s hand.” 

“I was thinking about that too!” Lance bursts out. “I knew you were an android at that point, but also knew Shiro would kill me if I let you try some.”

That reminds him. Curious, Shiro brushes back Keith’s bangs. “Keith…why did you let me treat you like a human for so long?”

Keith averts his eyes, biting down on his thumb. “Shi’ro sad.” Both of them jolt at the old nickname. “I want Shi’ro be happy, ‘cause Shi’ro no love me, but he love other me. So I play pretend, and Shi’ro happy.”

Memories of the first few months with Keith trickle back in - his bright eyes dimming every time Shiro urged him to eat, words that Shiro couldn’t - _ wouldn’t _\- understand, the awful realization on his face as he realized that Shiro wasn’t looking at him, but at someone far gone.

Tears burn brightly against his eyes as his breath catches in his chest. “Keith, oh god honey. You know I love _you_, right?”

“Yep!” Keith smiles up at Shiro with a delighted sound. “Daddy and Papi love me lots! I love Shi’ro too, no worry. I no mind playing pretend before, but I happy more now.”

Lance slings an arm over Keith, pinning him to Shiro’s chest with a little laugh. “I’m happy too _ nene_.” He promises, gently tugging at the ends of Keith’s hair.

Keith glances up at him. “You happy, Daddy?”

Takashi Shirogane watches them as they cuddle in the hammock, just watching the clouds drift by without a care in the world, but they’re together. Together as a family. That man haunts him, a collection of memories and a personalities that influenced his own but was never quite the same person. Distantly, he wonders if Keith feels Keith Kogane as well, or if Keith has faced his demons at the bottom of a porcelain tub. 

_ Are you finally happy? _He asks, voice fading like the dying winds of the never ending winter.

Shiro can't give those memories much, but he can give them this.

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “I’m happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art can also be found over at https://anawriteshorror.tumblr.com/post/190435028169/last-chapter-of-music-box-is-out
> 
> Oh god, this has been a long run. Thank you so much to everyone who’s sticked through this story until the end. This started as just a fluff project and it’s taken over my life completely haha. I hope everyone enjoyed reading this as much I did writing it! 
> 
> Lowkey want to write a sequel but I have no idea w h a t. I think this is a good ending point anyhow - Shiro got his happy ending with his family, which is what he always wanted.
> 
> One last song recommendation - for this fic as a whole - is “Stay a little longer” by Lostboycrows. That song is what helped inspire this fic and I just love it so incredibly much. 
> 
> See you!


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